In That Day

ABSALOM! Absalom!

Put back thy fragrant hair!

Loud is the city’s hum.

Why dost thy linger there

To set soft hearts on fire?

That thou may’st reign and be

What mainly men desire

What best it liketh thee?

Hark to the City’s hum,

Absalom, Absalom!

Canst thou not clearer see

The thronging forms that came

Beneath the branching tree?

The green ways of the wood,

And dropping from the dart

The small dull pool of blood

That drains the traitorous heart?

See the dim forms that come,

Absalom, Absalom.