PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA.
The Prophet stood beside the sea;
Looked calmly to the sky:
"Our God, in need we call to Thee,
Make Israel's pathway dry!"
He smote the waters with his hand;
The waves reeled back at his command,
The foam-wreaths curled from the wet sand,
Flung back on either side;
The surges piled a mountain height,
Two icy glaciers, still and white,
Showed Israel's pathway dried.
The pillow of the wave, left bare,
Disclosed what years had garnered there,
To make the deep sea-grottoes fair;
Bright shells and shining sand
Lay glittering in the summer ray,
Whose braided glory wreathed the day,
And lit the pulseless tide that lay
Piled backward from the strand.
The waves reeled back at his command,
The foam-wreaths curled from the wet sand,
Flung back on either side;
The surges piled a mountain height,
Two icy glaciers, still and white,
Showed Israel's pathway dried.
The pillow of the wave, left bare,
Disclosed what years had garnered there,
To make the deep sea-grottoes fair;
Bright shells and shining sand
Lay glittering in the summer ray,
Whose braided glory wreathed the day,
And lit the pulseless tide that lay
Piled backward from the strand.
55
