THE ISRAELITES CROSSING THE RED SEA.
Before them lay the restless deep,
Behind the foeman pressed,
And every face grew dark with fear,
And anguish filled each breast,
Save one, the leader’s, he serene
Beheld with dauntless mind,
The heaving deep outspread before,
The foe that pressed behind. “Why hast thou brought us forth for this?”
The people loudly cry—
“Were there no graves in Egypt’s land,
That here we come to die?”
Yet clear and calm above the din,
Arose the prophet’s word,
“Stand still, stand still, and ye shall see
Salvation from the Lord.” “Fear not, for they whom now ye see,
Your eyes no more shall view;
Peace to your fears! your fathers’ God
This day shall fight for you;
For Egypt in her haughty pride
And stubbornness abhorred,
This day in bitterness shall learn
Jehovah is the Lord!” He spoke, and o’er the Red Sea’s flood
He stretched his awful wand;
And lo! the startled waves retired
Abashed on either hand,
And, like a mighty rampart, rose
To guard that narrow way,
Mysterious that before the hosts
Of ransomed Israel lay. Oh! strange and solemn was the road,
Which they were called to tread,
With mysteries of the ancient deep
Around their footsteps spread—
With ocean’s unknown floor laid bare
Before their wondering eyes,
And the strange, watery wall that thus
On either hand did rise. Yet fearlessly with steadfast faith,
Their leader led them on,
While from behind a heavenly light
Through the dread passage shone—
Light for that lone and trembling band
Beamed out with radiance clear,
While Egypt’s host came groping on
’Mid darkness dense and drear. ’Tis past, and on Arabia’s coast
The tribes of Israel stand,
While fierce and fast Egypt’s host
Approach that quiet strand;
Though darkness like an awful veil
Hangs o’er that dreadful path,
Still on they desperately press
In bitterness and wrath. Then slowly once again arose
The Hebrew prophet’s hand,
And o’er the deep, again he stretched
That strange, mysterious wand;
The rushing waters closed in might
Above that pathway lone,
And Pharaoh, in his haughty pride,
And all his host were gone. Wail, Egypt, wail! thy crown of pride
Is humbled in the dust,
And thou, though late, art brought to know
That Jacob’s God is just;
And then, O! Israel, lift thy voice
In one triumphant song
Of praise to Him, in whom alone
Thy feeble arm is strong.
—Evangelical Witness.