Behold he weeps, as if he were
  Afraid of cruel Egypt’s heir! 
  She speaks, she says, “This little one
  I will protect, though he the son
  Be of an Hebrew.”  Every word
  She speaks is by the sister heard. 
  And now observe, this is the part
  The painter chose to show his art. 
  Look at the sister’s eager eye,
  As here she seems advancing nigh. 
  Lowly she bends, says, “Shall I go
  And call a nurse to thee?  I know
  A Hebrew woman liveth near,
  Great lady, shall I bring her here?”
  See!  Pharaoh’s daughter answers, “Go.”—­
  No more the painter’s art can show. 
  He cannot make his figures move.—­
  On the light wings of swiftest love
  The girl will fly to bring the mother
  To be the nurse, she’ll bring no other. 
  To her will Pharaoh’s daughter say,
  “Take this child from me away: 
  For wages nurse him.  To my home
  At proper age this child may come. 
  When to our palace he is brought,
  Wise masters shall for him be sought
  To train him up, befitting one
  I would protect as my own son. 
  And Moses be a name unto him,
  Because I from the waters drew him.”

DAVID

  It is not always to the strong
  Victorious battle shall belong. 
  This found Goliath huge and tall: 
  Mightiest giant of them all,
  Who in the proud Philistian host
  Defied Israel with boast.

    With loud voice Goliath said: 
  “Hear, armed Israel, gathered,
  And in array against us set: 
  Ye shall alone by me be met. 
  For am not I a Philistine? 
  What strength may be compar’d to mine?

    “Chuse ye a man of greatest might: 
  And if he conquer me in fight,
  Then we will all servants be,
  King of Israel, unto thee. 
  But if I prove the victor, then
  Shall Saul and all his armed men
  Bend low beneath Philistian yoke.” 
  Day by day these words he spoke,
  Singly traversing the ground. 
  But not an Israelite was found
  To combat man to man with him,
  Who such prodigious force of limb
  Display’d.  Like to a weaver’s beam
  The pond’rous spear he held did seem. 
  In height six cubits he did pass,
  And he was arm’d all o’er in brass.

    Him we will leave awhile—­and speak
  Of one, the soft down on whose cheek
  Of tender youth the tokens bare. 
  Ruddy he was and very fair. 
  David, the son of Jesse he,
  Small-siz’d, yet beautiful to see. 
  Three brothers had he in the band
  Of warriors under Saul’s command;
  Himself at home did private keep
  In Bethlem’s plains his father’s sheep.