(Read 1 Sam. 18:8-11; 22:1, 2; and Psalm 57.)

He gives a few deft touches, to test and tune the strings,
Then, with a burst of gladness, the lovely song begins:
And through Saul's lofty palace one hears the psalm resound,
And old and young, enchanted, stand listening to the sound.

Upon his throne is seated the tall and stalwart king;
He loves to hear the singer tune up his harp and sing;
And oft indeed the music has charmed his grief away,
And oft been soothed his spirit, when hearing David play.

But now not even music can soothe that troubled soul,
No psalm expel the anger, or make the spirit whole:
The kingly brow is clouded with bitter frowns to-day,
Unheeded rings the music, Saul's thoughts are far away.

He sees Goliath vanquished, he hears the triumph shout,
As forth his army rushes the Philistines to rout,
He hears the maidens singing the youthful David's fame,
He hears the timbrels ringing, to praise the victor's name.

His heart is filled with envy no music can assuage,
And every moment deepens his jealousy and rage.
At last, the evil spirit controls the angry Saul:
He hurls his spear at David to smite him to the wall.

Abruptly ends the singing.-Unhurt the singer goes;
The strings vibrate no longer, no more the music flows.
The song, once interrupted, is now for ever o'er,
And Saul, with all his longing, shall never hear it more!

Within the cave Adullam, there rests a motley band-
Distressed and discontented, and outcasts in the land-
Their bitterness and sorrow those swarthy faces show,
And tales of woe are uttered before the camp-fires' glow.

But suddenly, the soldiers sit all mute upon the ground,
As through the cave there echoes a most melodious sound.
Their griefs are all forgotten, and hushed is every tongue,
While every ear is opened to listen to this song-

"O God, be Thou exalted, and let Thy glory be
Above the highest heaven, o'er all the earth and sea.
My soul hath found a refuge beneath Thy sheltering wing,
My heart is fixed, prepared, a song of praise to sing,

"Awake! awake, my glory! my harp, awake once more!
I must be up and singing, before the night is o'er;
Thee will I praise, Jehovah, and all on earth who dwell
Shall hear me sing Thy praises, and Thy great goodness tell.

"Thy mercy, who can measure? 'Tis great unto the sky;
Thy faithfulness unchanging, my soul doth magnify.
O God, be Thou exalted! and let Thy glory be
Above the highest heaven, o'er all the earth and sea."

The song of praise is ended; but in that gloomy den
The thoughts are lifted heavenward of twice two hundred men; ,
And some, though hard and bitter when to the cave they came,
Are taught to love their Captain, and praise Jehovah's name. ;

Our songs are often hindered. Ah, yes, we often find
That darksome thoughts and feelings embitter heart and mind;]
Then comes a time of trial, of sorrow, or of pain,
And God makes known His goodness, and tunes our hearts again.

The time is quickly coming, for which our spirits long,
When, no more interrupted, we'll sing a perfect song;
Yet, e'en while in the desert, oh what a joy to raise
Our grateful hearts and voices in our Redeemer's praise.

"His mercy who can measure?'Tis great unto the sky;
His faithfulness unchanging, our souls would magnify.
O God, be Thou exalted, and let Thy glory be
Above the highest heaven, o'er all the earth and sea!"

H. Wilson
Inkongo, Africa