And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate,
and wept: and as he went, thus he said, O my son Absalom, my son, my son
Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!

* * * * *

And the victory that day was turned into mourning unto all the people:
for the people heard say that day how the king was grieved for his son.
And the people gat them by stealth that day into the city, as people
being ashamed steal away when they flee in battle.

But the king covered his face, and the king cried with a loud voice, O
my son Absalom, O Absalom, my son, my son!

II. Samuel, XVIII-XIX.




I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty;
I woke, and found that life was duty.
Was my dream, then, a shadowy lie?
Toil on, brave heart, unceasingly,
And thou shalt find thy dream to be
A noonday light and truth to thee.

Hooper