University of Virginia Library

“Maiden of Heaven elect,—for such mine eye,
And voice within, attest thee,—of God's ways,
Man knoweth not to judge. All human strength,
With Him, is weakness: greatest kings are motes
Before His breath; the feeblest, at His will,
Mightier than monarchs. Mountains, touched by Him,
Would sink to molehills; sand-grains swell to hills.
If chosen thou, thy weakness may become
A might to vanquish nations. But, for thee,
A work of love and peace for all mankind,
Haply God willeth: humbly wait we then
Till He withdraw the veil, and show distinct
The gracious purpose; now in darkness hid,
But certain as the glory of the sun,
Behind the cloud that veils it. Know thou this;
And, as a creature loved, and chosen of Heaven,
In every act and word still guard thyself:
For present evermore is God with thee,
And all beholdeth; even thy secret thoughts
Seeing distinct, as though with sunbeams writ.
So wilt thou, fear I not. And now, blest maid,
For thy free, gentle answer, take my thanks.
True innocence with open heart still speaks;
Guile fearing not, and seeking nought to hide.
But, lest o'erbold, intrusive, thou may deem
One, all a stranger, yet thy secret thoughts
Thus plainly asking,—somewhat of myself
Hear thou, in turn. A man I am, once known
To all of Israel; but, in far off land,
A two score years sojourning,—by the most
Forgotten now; or only as a thing
Of the old time remembered. Yet the name
Perchance hath reached thee. Moses am I called;
By the last Pharaoh, in his younger days,
Much honored for awhile; but, in the end,
Slightly esteemed; and, by his jealous chiefs,
Rulers and priests, so hated and traduced,
That.....”

With a gentle start, and tone of joy,
His speech arresting, “Then the brother thou
Of our loved Aaron,” said she,—a bright smile
O'er all her countenance playing, as the rays
Round diamonds, gently shaken,—“and thy name
Well known is here: from my first infancy
Oft have I heard it spoken; though, alas,
With sorrow; for my parents mourned thee lost;
Yea, all men deemed thee dead. Great joy indeed
Will fill them, knowing thee alive, and here.
At this hour, absent are they, on a work
Of mercy bound; but will anon return.
Meantime, for them entreating, do I pray,
If greater matters hurry not thy steps,
That thou awhile our honored guest wilt be.
Old friends, I doubt not, will my father bring
To welcome thee, and of old times discourse.
Nay, sure I am, that all of this fair land
Will haste to greet thee; so that pleasantly,
A moon, or twain, may pass; and yet new friends
New welcome bring. Now, may I speak for thee,
And answer ‘yea’? Think me not overbold,
In my loved parents' name inviting thee;
For my weak prayer would they make tenfold strong;
Nay, with kind chains would bind thee to remain,
Honored, and honoring, their long-time guest.
Sincerely have I spoken; sure I am
Sincerely thou wilt answer.”

A warm light
Of holy love and reverence from the face
Of Moses beamed, as thus he heard, and thus
Gently replied.

“For this one day, blest maid,
And also for this night, thy bidding kind
Freely accept I, as 'twas freely given:
Nay, thankfully would longer be the guest,
Where I on thee might look, and with thee talk,
Communing of our God; and somewhat learn,
It may be, of His purpose, hidden yet,
Through thee to be accomplished: but not long
Here may I tarry; for throughout this land
Must I go quickly: not alone loved friends
Of the old time to embrace; but, unto all,
Proclaim to make of wondrous things at hand,—
Even of our full deliverance. Nay, the work
Already is begun. But not of this
More say I now. Thy father will, this day,
Gather his friends together,—such, at least,
Who briefly may be summoned; and to them
At large will I declare the marvels great
Our God will do; as by His very voice,
On Horeb spoken. Of these things to hear,
Canst thou, blest maiden, till the evening hour,
Patiently tarry? for thy face,—but late,
Pale as a pure white cloud of early dawn,—
At word of these glad tidings, gloweth bright
As that same cloud at coming of the sun.”