Then slowly, once again, arose
The Hebrew prophet's hand,
And o'er the waiting deep outstretched
Once more that awful wand;--
The rushing waters closed in might
Above that pathway lone,
And Pharaoh, in his haughty pride,
And all his hosts were gone!
Wail, Egypt, wail!--thy kingly crown
Is humbled in the dust!
And thou, though late, art forced to own
That Israel's God is just!
And thou, O Israel, lift thy voice
In one triumphant song
Of praise to Him in whom alone
Thy feeble arm is strong!
THE WAY-SIDE ELM
Standing alone by the highway side,
Stately, and stalwart, and tempest-tried,
Staunch of body and strong of bough,
Fronting the sky with an honest brow,
King of the forest and field is he--
Yon way side watcher--the old Elm tree.
When kindly Summer, with smile serene,
Drapes branch and bough in her robe of green,
Ever the joyous, wild birds come
And sing 'mid the clustering leaves at home;
Ever the soft winds, to and fro,
Steal through the branches with music low,
And golden sunbeams sparkle and play,
And dance with shadows the livelong day.
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