And the watchman saw another man running, and the watchman called unto the porter, and said, Behold, another man running alone.  And the king said, He also bringeth tidings.  And the watchman said, Methinketh the running of the foremost is like the running of Ahimaaz the son of Zadok.  And the king said, He is a good man, and cometh with good tidings.

And Ahimaaz called, and said unto the king, All is well.  And he fell down to the earth upon his face before the king, and said, Blessed be the Lord thy God, which hath delivered up the men that lifted up their hand against my lord the king.  And the king said, Is the young man Absalom safe?  And Ahimaaz answered, When Joab sent the king’s servant, and me thy servant, I saw a great tumult, but I knew not what it was.  And the king said unto him, Turn aside and stand here.  And he turned aside, and stood still.

And behold, Cushi came; and Cushi said, Tidings my lord the king; for the Lord hath avenged thee this day of all them that rose up against thee.  And the king said unto Cushi, Is the young man Absalom safe?  And Cushi answered, The enemies of my lord the king, and all that rise against thee to do thee hurt, be as that young man is.

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! 
                                                 —­II Samuel, Chap. xviii.

CXXIII.  ABRAHAM DAVENPORT. (424)

’T was on a May day of the far old year
Seventeen hundred eighty, that there fell
Over the bloom and sweet life of the Spring,
Over the fresh earth and the heaven of noon,
A horror of great darkness, like the night
In day of which the Norland sagas tell,
The Twilight of the Gods.

The low-hung sky
Was black with ominous clouds, save where its rim
Was fringed with a dull glow, like that which climbs
The crater’s sides from the red hell below. 
Birds ceased to sing, and all the barnyard fowls
Roosted; the cattle at the pasture bars
Lowed, and looked homeward; bats on leathern wings
Flitted abroad; the sounds of labor died;
Men prayed, and women wept; all ears grew sharp
To hear the doom blast of the trumpet shatter
The black sky, that the dreadful face of Christ
Might look from the rent clouds, not as he looked
A loving guest at Bethany, but stern
As Justice and inexorable Law.

Meanwhile in the old Statehouse, dim as ghosts,
Sat the lawgivers of Connecticut,
Trembling beneath their legislative robes. 
“It is the Lord’s Great Day!  Let us adjourn,”
Some said; and then, as if with one accord,
All eyes were turned to Abraham Davenport.