WHEN he, who, from the scourge of wrong, Aroused the Hebrew tribes to fly, Saw the fair region, promised long, And bowed him on the hills to die; God made his grave, to men unknown, Where Moab's rocks a vale infold, And laid the aged seer alone To slumber while the world grows old. Thus still, whene'er the good and just Close the dim eye on life and pain, Heaven watches o'er their sleeping dust, Till the pure spirit comes again. Though nameless, trampled, and forgot, His servant's humble ashes lie, Yet God has marked and sealed the spot, To call its inmate to the sky. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EFFIGY OF A NUN (SIXTEENTH CENTURY) by SARA TEASDALE THE BEST [THING IN THE WORLD] by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ANGEL OR WOMAN by THOMAS PARNELL DOLORES by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE IMPROMPTU LINES ON JULY FOURTH by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 5. SHE THINKS OF THE FAITHFUL ONE by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS |