A golden mitre on his head, a crosier in his hand.
His vestments ’broidered were with pearls, and rays of green and red
From emeralds fair and rubies bright on every side were shed.
When all had passed, poor David crept from out his hiding-place,
And slowly followed up the throng with soft and stealthy pace.
Then, fearing lest his Jewish dress might some attention draw,
He sank down at the pillar’s base where first his form we saw.
Then, as the holy service rose to God, and voice of prayer,
And hymns and canticles of praise filled all the listening air,
The Hebrew lad fell prone upon his face, and there adored,