"For them the rose of Sharon flings And there the golden lily springs,- "Amid the olive's fruitful boughs Is heard the song of love, For there doth build, and breathe her vows "For them shall bloom the clustering vine, The fig-tree shed her flowers; The citron's golden treasures shine 66 From out her greenest bowers. For them, for them, but not for me; Not Jordan's stream nor yon bright sea 66 'Tis well, 'tis well, my task is done, Since Israel's sons are blest: Father, receive Thy dying one Alone he bade the world farewell, To God his spirit fled. Now to your tents, O Israel, And mourn your prophet dead! JESSIE G. M'CARTEE 36 JERICHO Joshua vi I. Around the walls of Jericho, With steady tramp, their spears in hand, Six days, six journeys, now are past; Scarce had the first flush of the dawn When forth from every well-known tent Thus early start they on their way; II. Within the walls of Jericho, In stern indifference wait the foe. What care they for these haggard men How can they hope to overthrow And so, with laugh and scornful glance, And pass around the ruddy wine, While sounds of revelry rise high III. Outside the walls of Jericho, Six of the rounds already past, Throughout those ranks no sound is heard, There rises up no other sound Than steady foot-beats on the ground. Now suddenly they turn about, And with one voice the people shout. Down fall the walls of Jericho The heathen's power lieth low. IV. Low lie the walls of Jericho, And through her halls her foemen go. All hope for the city proud has fled, And the ringing pavement of the street Thus did firm faith in God's commands Thus did the strong right arm of God Thus did He great honor lay Upon the name of Joshua. FRANK FOXCROFT 37 THE FALL OF JERICHO Slowly the invaders emerged from the groves, but before the last lines had deployed into the plain, the silver trumpets rang out their clear summons that Israel should stand still; and then, for a moment, silence fell over the wide-spreading array. Behind lay the palm-belt, the camp, and the Jordan; before, trampled garden and fallen grove; then impregnable walls, and, beyond all, the land that had been promised them for a heritage, and to which sword and spear must now prove title. Adriel looked northward, and, as he looked, the centre of the host seemed to separate to right and left. Out into the open plain marched six priests, two and two. Before them walked a man who seemed to have completed a century of human life. His figure, once tall and commanding, was bent with age. A forehead, lofty, but worn and wrinkled, gave an appearance of thoughtfulness to a face placid and kindly. From under the sacred tiara flowed hair whiter than the snows of the north. Hardly in keeping with the age of the wearer seemed the rich and gorgeous garments that clothed his form, or the glittering breastplate that proclaimed his name and rank-Eleazar, the son of Aaron, high priest of Jehovah. All unarmed were the seven, but each bore in his hand a trumpet-not the straight silver clarion that sounded the rally or the charge, but the short curved horn of jubilee, shorn from the head of some patriarch of the flock. But it was on what followed close behind the sacred escort that every eye was fixed; on which the hardiest veteran bent looks of mingled fear and veneration. Yet it seemed worthy of neither. Borne on the shoulders of eight Kohathites, whose flowing garments reached to their feet, it seemed. only a canopy of dark purple; but the host knew well the object which that canopy shut out from the gaze of man. No living human eye but that of him who wore the jewelled breastplate had ever looked upon the uncovered outlines of the Ark of God; yet every detail of its material, its workmanship, and its holy and awful contents, was graven deep in the heart of the humblest warrior in the ranks, and by look and silence they did it reverence. For a moment the bearers and those who went before them paused, and then, turning slowly south |