As his tall helm was bowed; and by the love
He bore his master, he besought him there
That he would spare him Absalom alive.
He passed with his stern warriors on; the trump
And the loud cymbal died upon the ear;
And as the king turned off his weary gaze,
The last faint gleam had vanished, and the wood
Of Ephraim had received a thousand men,
To whom its pleasant shadows were a grave.
The pall was settled. He who slept beneath