The blood from out his forehead gushed.
He rolled, and writhed, and roared:
The little hero on him rushed,
And drew his ponderous sword.
Before its owner's dying eye
He held the gleaming point
Upon his throbbing neck to try;
Then severed cord and joint.
He took the head, and carried it
And laid it down by Saul;
And showed him where the pebble hit
That caused the giant's fall.
The lad, who had Goliath slain
With pebbles and a sling,
Was raised in after years to reign
As Israel's second king!
'Twas not the courage, skill, or might
Which David had, alone,
That helped him Israel's foe to fight
And conquer, with a stone.
But, when the shepherd stripling went
The giant thus to kill,
God used him as an instrument
His purpose to fulfil!
=Escape of the Doves=.
Come back, pretty Doves! O, come back from the tree.
You bright little fugitive things!
We could not have thought you so ready and free
In using your beautiful wings.
We didn't suppose, when we lifted the lid,
To see if you knew how to fly,
You'd all flutter off in a moment, and bid
The basket for ever good-by!
Come down, and we'll feast you on insects and seeds;--
You sha'nt have occasion to roam--
We'll give you all things that a bird ever needs,
To make it contented at home.
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