Page:Poems Toke.djvu/27

19

And never more shall that unearthly light
For him illume the shadowy future's night,
Or chase away his darkened spirit's gloom
With scenes of joy and glory yet to come.

No longer there the awe-struck group remain,
But turn to seek their distant homes again;
And 'neath the rising star of evening's ray,
Silent and mournful now retrace their way.

Soon o'er fair Moab's hills and sparkling streams
The silver crescent sheds her melting beams
O'er the dim woods and Jordan's heaving breast.
Brightly her trembling lustre seems to rest.
And bathes in watery light yon desert plains,
Where now at last Night's thrilling silence reigns
And gentle sleep, on noiseless pinions borne,
Descends to shed sweet peace o'er those that mourn,
And steep awhile in dark oblivion's rest,
Lull many a weary form and aching breast.

Almost four thousand years have passed away
On wings of speed, since that eventful day,
And they who then from Pisgah's lofty brow
Beheld the wandering tribes encamped below,
Long, long have met the fate of mortal birth.
And sleep forgotten in their kindred earth.
Life passed away! Beyond the castern wave
The haughty monarch fills an unknown grave
And he upon whose soul the Spirit's flame
No oft in streams of burning lustre came,