meeting. How blessed is the presence of mind with which the musician of
real genius passes from song to song, "whate'er the occasion be!" With
the ease of genius he changed the tone of his melody again, and sang his
own hymn, "To Earth, the Mother of all."

The triumphant strain is one which harmonizes with every sentiment; and
he commanded instantly the rapt attention of the circle. So engrossed
was he, that he did not seem to observe, as he sang, an addition to
their company of some soldiers from above in the valley, just _as_ he
entered on the passage:--

"Happy, then, are they
Whom thou, O great in reverence!
Are bent to honor. They shall all things find
In all abundance! All their pastures yield
Herds in all plenty. All their roofs are filled
With rich possessions.
High happiness and wealth attend them,
While, with laws well-ordered, they
Cities of happy households sway;
And their sons exult in the pleasure of youth,
And their daughters dance with the flower-decked girls,
Who play among the flowers of summer!
Such are the honors thy full hands divide;
Mother of Gods and starry Heaven's bride!"[A]

A buzz of pleasure and a smile ran round the circle, in which the
new-comers joined. They were the soldiers who had been to hear and join
the music at the Carmel-men's post. The tones of Homer's harp had
tempted them to return; and they had brought with them the Hebrew
minstrel, to whom they had been listening. It was the outlaw David, of
Bethlehem Ephrata.

David had listened to Homer more intently than any one; and, as the
pleased applause subsided, the eyes of the circle gathered upon him, and
the manner of all showed that they expected him, in minstrel-fashion, to
take up the same strain.

He accepted the implied invitation, played a short prelude, and taking
Homer's suggestion of topic, sang in parallel with it:--

"I will sing a new song unto thee, O God!
Upon psaltery and harp will I sing praise to thee.
Thou art He that giveth salvation to kings,
That delivereth David, thy servant, from the sword.
Rid me and save me from those who speak vanity,
Whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood,--
That our sons may be as plants in fresh youth;
That our daughters may be as corner-stones,--
The polished stones of our palaces;
That our garners may be full with all manner of store;