All ports and rocks that break the ocean-shore
Rock, haven, plain, are buried by its fall;
But the near wave, unchanging, drinks it all.
So while these stony tempests veil the skies,
While this on Greeks, and that on Trojans flies,
The walls unchanged above the clamor rise."[B]

The men looked round upon David, whose expression, as he returned the
glance, showed that he had enjoyed the fragment as well as they. But
when they still looked expectant, he did not decline the unspoken
invitation; but, taking Homer's harp, sang, as if the words were
familiar to him:--

"He giveth snow like wool;
He scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes;
He casteth forth his ice like morsels;
Who can stand before his cold?
He sendeth forth his word, and melteth them;
He causeth his wind to blow, and the waters flow."

"Always this '_He_,'" said one of the young soldiers to another.

"Yes," he replied; "and it was so in the beginning of the evening, when
we were above there."

"There is a strange difference between the two men, though the one plays
as well as the other, and the Greek speaks with quite as little foreign
accent as the Jew, and their subjects are the same."

"Yes," said the young Philistine harper; "if the Greek should sing one