THE hills and the valleys are flooded with moonlight, The radiant stars, how resplendent they gleam! Before me lies open the dear, olden volume, On whose pages I ponder and dream. I pore o'er its pages so precious and sacred, When sudden there whispers a voice unto me: "I have promised, O Israel, I have sworn to make you Like the stars of the heavens, the sands of the sea!" O Lord of Creation! what mortal dare question A single word of Thy Promise of grace? Every deed Thou hast pledged Thou art mighty to do it— Each thing in its time, each part in its place. And one thing e'en now Thou hast surely fulfilled it, Mine own eyes behold it, forbidding all doubt; We have become like the sand that is worthless, Trodden and trampled and blown about. Yes, dear Lord, as the sand the pebbles Are we scattered and strewn 'neath contemptuous feet; But the stars—how long, O Lord, ere the stars The yearning eyes with their glory shall greet? S. FRUG. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DUTY SURVIVING SELF-LOVE; THE ONLY SURE FRIEND OF DECLINING LIFE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SONNET TO THE MOON by HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS THE LEPER (2) by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS THE WILD DUCK'S NEST by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ABIDE WITH US by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR BACH'S ORGAN WORKS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |