Poetry · Moses (4/4)

VI

But Pharaoh was strangely blind, and turning

From his first-born and his dead, with Egypt’s wail

Scarce still upon his ear, he asked which way had

Israel gone? They told him that they journeyed

Towards the mighty sea, and were encamped

Near Baalzephon.

Then Pharaoh said, “the wilderness will hem them in,

The mighty sea will roll its barriers in front,

And with my chariots and my warlike men

I’ll bring them back, or mete them out their graves.”

Then Pharaoh’s officers arose

And gathered up the armies of the king,

And made his chariots ready for pursuit.

With proud escutcheons blazoned to the sun,

In his chariot of ivory, pearl and gold,

Pharaoh rolled out of Egypt; and with him

Rode his mighty men, their banners floating

On the breeze, their spears and armor glittering

In the morning light; and Israel saw,

With fainting hearts, their old oppressors on their

Track: then women wept in hopeless terror;

Children hid their faces in their mothers’ robes,

And strong men bowed their heads in agony and dread;

And then a bitter, angry murmur rose⁠—

“Were there no graves in Egypt, that thou hast

Brought us here to die?”

Then Moses lifted up his face, aglow

With earnest faith in God, and bade their fainting hearts

Be strong and they should his salvation see.

“Stand still,” said Moses to the fearful throng

Whose hearts were fainting in the wild, “Stand still.”

Ah, that was Moses’ word, but higher and greater

Came God’s watchword for the hour, and not for that

Alone, but all the coming hours of time.

“Speak ye unto the people and bid them

Forward go; stretch thy hand across the waters

And smite them with thy rod.” And Moses smote

The restless sea; the waves stood up in heaps,

Then lay as calm and still as lips that just

Had tasted death. The secret-loving sea

Laid bare her coral caves and iris-tinted

Floor; that wall of flood which lined the people’s

Way was God’s own wondrous masonry;

The signal pillar sent to guide them through the wild

Moved its dark shadow till it fronted Egypt’s

Camp, but hung in fiery splendor, a light

To Israel’s path. Madly rushed the hosts

Of Pharaoh upon the people’s track, when

The solemn truth broke on them⁠—that God

For Israel fought. With cheeks in terror

Blenching, and eyes astart with fear, “let

Us flee,” they cried, “from Israel, for their God

Doth fight against us; he is battling on their side.”

They had trusted in their chariots, but now

That hope was vain; God had loosened every

Axle and unfastened every wheel, and each

Face did gather blackness and each heart stood still

With fear, as the livid lightnings glittered

And the thunder roared and muttered on the air,

And they saw the dreadful ruin that shuddered

O’er their heads, for the waves began to tremble

And the wall of flood to bend. Then arose

A cry of terror, baffled hate and hopeless dread,

A gurgling sound of horror, as the waves

Came madly dashing, wildly crashing, seeking

Out their place again, and the flower and pride

Of Egypt sank as lead within the sea

Till the waves threw back their corpses cold and stark

Upon the shore, and the song of Israel’s

Triumph was the requiem of their foes.

Oh the grandeur of that triumph; up the cliffs

And down the valleys, o’er the dark and restless

Sea, rose the people’s shout of triumph, going

Up in praise to God, and the very air

Seemed joyous, for the choral song of millions

Throbbed upon its viewless wings.

Then another song of triumph rose in accents

Soft and clear; ’twas the voice of Moses’ sister

Rising in the tide of song. The warm blood

Of her childhood seemed dancing in her veins;

The roses of her girlhood were flushing

On her cheek, and her eyes flashed out the splendor

Of long departed days, for time itself seemed

Pausing, and she lived the past again; again

The Nile flowed by her; she was watching by the stream,

A little ark of rushes where her baby brother lay;

The tender tide of rapture swept o’er her soul again

She had felt when Pharaoh’s daughter had claimed

Him as her own, and her mother wept for joy

Above her rescued son. Then again she saw

Him choosing “ ’twixt Israel’s pain and sorrow

And Egypt’s pomp and pride.” But now he stood

Their leader triumphant on that shore, and loud

She struck the cymbals as she led the Hebrew women

In music, dance and song, as they shouted out

Triumphs in sweet and glad refrains.

A wail in the palace, a wail in the hut,

The midnight is shivering with dread,

And Egypt wakes up with a shriek and a sob

To mourn for her first-born and dead.

In the morning glad voices greeted the light,

As the Nile with its splendor was flushed;

At midnight silence had melted their tones,

And their music forever is hushed.

In the morning the princes of palace and court

To the heir of the kingdom bowed down;

’Tis midnight, pallid and stark in his shroud

He dreams not of kingdom or crown.

As a monument blasted and blighted by God,

Through the ages proud Pharaoh shall stand,

All seamed with the vengeance and scarred with the wrath

That leaped from God’s terrible hand.

VII

They journeyed on from Zuphim’s sea until

They reached the sacred mount and heard the solemn

Decalogue. The mount was robed in blackness⁠—

Heavy and deep the shadows lay; the thunder

Crashed and roared upon the air; the lightning

Leaped from crag to crag; God’s fearful splendor

Flowed around, and Sinai quaked and shuddered

To its base, and there did God proclaim

Unto their listening ears, the great, the grand,

The central and the primal truth of all

The universe⁠—the unity of God. Only one God⁠—

This truth received into the world’s great life,

Not as an idle dream nor speculative thing,

But as a living, vitalizing thought,

Should bind us closer to our God and link us

With our fellow man, the brothers and co-heirs

With Christ, the elder brother of our race.

Before this truth let every blade of war

Grow dull, and slavery, cowering at the light,

Skulk from the homes of men; instead

Of war bring peace and freedom, love and joy,

And light for man, instead of bondage, whips

And chains. Only one God! the strongest hands

Should help the weak who bend before the blasts

Of life, because if God is only one

Then we are the children of his mighty hand,

And when we best serve man, we also serve

Our God. Let haughty rulers learn that men

Of humblest birth and lowliest lot have

Rights as sacred and divine as theirs, and they

Who fence in leagues of earth by bonds and claims

And title deeds, forgetting land and water,

Air and light are God’s own gifts and heritage

For man⁠—who throw their selfish lives between

God’s sunshine and the shivering poor⁠—

Have never learned the wondrous depth, nor scaled

The glorious height of this great central truth,

Around which clusters all the holiest faiths

Of earth. The thunder died upon the air,

The lightning ceased its livid play, the smoke

And darkness died away in clouds, as soft

And fair as summer wreaths that lie around

The setting sun, and Sinai stood a bare

And rugged thing among the sacred scenes

Of earth.

VIII

It was a weary thing to bear the burden

Of that restless and rebellious race. With

Sinai’s thunders almost crashing in their ears,

They made a golden calf, and in the desert

Spread an idol’s feast, and sung the merry songs

They had heard when Mizraim’s songs bowed down before

Their vain and heathen gods; and thus for many years

Did Moses bear the evil manners of his race⁠—

Their angry murmurs, fierce regrets and strange

Forgetfulness of God. Born slaves, they did not love

The freedom of the wild more than their pots of flesh.

And pleasant savory things once gathered

From the gardens of the Nile.

If slavery only laid its weight of chains

Upon the weary, aching limbs, e’en then

It were a curse; but when it frets through nerve

And flesh and eats into the weary soul,

Oh then it is a thing for every human

Heart to loathe, and this was Israel’s fate,

For when the chains were shaken from their limbs,

They failed to strike the impress from their souls.

While he who’d basked beneath the radiance

Of a throne, ne’er turned regretful eyes upon

The past, nor sighed to grasp again the pleasures

Once resigned; but the saddest trial was

To see the light and joy fade from their faces

When the faithless spies spread through their camp

Their ill report; and when the people wept

In hopeless unbelief and turned their faces

Egyptward, and asked a captain from their bands

To lead them back where they might bind anew

Their broken chains, when God arose and shut

The gates of promise on their lives, and left

Their bones to bleach beneath Arabia’s desert sands.

But though they slumbered in the wild, they died

With broader freedom on their lips, and for their

Little ones did God reserve the heritage

So rudely thrust aside.

IX

The Death of Moses

His work was done; his blessing lay

Like precious ointment on his people’s head,

And God’s great peace was resting on his soul.

His life had been a lengthened sacrifice,

A thing of deep devotion to his race,

Since first he turned his eyes on Egypt’s gild

And glow, and clasped their fortunes in his hand

And held them with a firm and constant grasp.

But now his work was done; his charge was laid

In Joshua’s hand, and men of younger blood

Were destined to possess the land and pass

Through Jordan to the other side. He too

Had hoped to enter there⁠—to tread the soil

Made sacred by the memories of his

Kindred dead, and rest till life’s calm close beneath

The sheltering vines and stately palms of that

Fair land; that hope had colored all his life’s

Young dreams and sent its mellowed flushes o’er

His later years; but God’s decree was otherwise.

And so he bowed his meekened soul in calm

Submission to the word, which bade him climb

To Nebo’s highest peak, and view the pleasant land

From Jordan’s swells unto the calmer ripples

Of the tideless sea, then die with all its

Loveliness in sight.

As he passed from Moab’s grassy vale to climb

The rugged mount, the people stood in mournful groups,

Some, with quivering lips and tearful eyes,

Reaching out unconscious hands, as if to stay

His steps and keep him ever at their side, while

Others gazed with reverent awe upon

The calm and solemn beauty on his aged brow,

The look of loving trust and lofty faith

Still beaming from an eye that neither care

Nor time had dimmed. As he passed upward, tender

Blessings, earnest prayers and sad farewells rose

On each wave of air, then died in one sweet

Murmur of regretful love; and Moses stood

Alone on Nebo’s mount. Alone! not one

Of all that mighty throng who had trod with him

In triumph through the parted flood was there.

Aaron had died in Hor, with son and brother

By his side; and Miriam too was gone.

But kindred hands had made her grave, and Kadesh

Held her dust. But he was all alone; nor wife

Nor child was there to clasp in death his hand,

And bind around their bleeding hearts the precious

Parting words. And yet he was not all alone,

For God’s great presence flowed around his path

And stayed him in that solemn hour.

He stood upon the highest peak of Nebo,

And saw the Jordan chafing through its gorges,

Its banks made bright by scarlet blooms

And purple blossoms. The placid lakes

And emerald meadows, the snowy crest

Of distant mountains, the ancient rocks

That dripped with honey, the hills all bathed

In light and beauty; the shady groves

And peaceful vistas, the vines opprest

With purple riches, the fig trees fruit-crowned

Green and golden, the pomegranates with crimson

Blushes, the olives with their darker clusters,

Rose before him like a vision, full of beauty

And delight. Gazed he on the lovely landscape

Till it faded from his view, and the wing

Of death’s sweet angel hovered o’er the mountain’s

Crest, and he heard his garments rustle through

The watches of the night. Then another, fairer, vision

Broke upon his longing gaze; ’twas the land

Of crystal fountains, love and beauty, joy

And light, for the pearly gates flew open,

And his ransomed soul went in. And when morning

O’er the mountain fringed each crag and peak with light,

Cold and lifeless lay the leader. God had touched

His eyes with slumber, giving his beloved sleep.

Oh never on that mountain

Was seen a lovelier sight

Than the troupe of fair young angels

That gathered ’round the dead.

With gentle hands they bore bim,

That bright and shining train,

From Nebo’s lonely mountain

To sleep in Moab’s vale.

But they sung no mornful dirges,

No solemn requiems said,

And the soft wave of their pinions

Made music as they trod.

But no one heard them passing,

None saw their chosen grave;

It was the angels’ secret

Where Moses should be laid.

And when the grave was finished,

They trod with golden sandals

Above the sacred spot,

And the brightest, fairest flowers

Sprang up beneath their tread.

Nor broken turf, nor hillock

Did e’er reveal that grave,

And truthful lips have never said

We know where he is laid.