When Nehemiah rode into the dark, And stones of ruin cumbered his advance, And old localities were hard to mark, Methinks he spent some moments in a trance Of sounds from past and future - Abraham's foot With Isaac's on Moriah; then the sigh Of Moses, beyond Jordan doomed to die, So near the soil wherein his heart had root: 'Ay!' thought he, 'and my own fond suit was met By earthly and by heavenly sympathy!' Then came sweet tones from far Gennesaret, A plash, as from the casting of a net, The noise as of a Cross grounded and set Hard by him, and a loud and lonely cry! |