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269
THE DEATH OF AARON.
“And Moses did as the Lord commanded; and they went up into Mount Hor, in the sight of all the congregation. And Moses stripped Aaron of his garments, and put them upon Eleazar, his son; and Aaron died there, in the top of the mount.”
—Numbees, XX. 27, 28.
Lo! Israel's wandering tribes behold
At Edom's utmost bound,
Beside the mountain stern and bold,
Encamped on desert ground!
Their tents Mosera's vale of green
Have studded thick with white,
As stars o'er evening's sky are seen
To pave the path with light.
At Edom's utmost bound,
Beside the mountain stern and bold,
Encamped on desert ground!
Their tents Mosera's vale of green
Have studded thick with white,
As stars o'er evening's sky are seen
To pave the path with light.
But why did their unearthly guide,
Enrobed in cloud by day,
In flame by night, this mount beside
His ark and army stay?
What is the solemn, grand decree
The Judge Supreme hath willed,
In this drear wilderness to be,
This day and hour, fulfilled?
Enrobed in cloud by day,
In flame by night, this mount beside
His ark and army stay?
What is the solemn, grand decree
The Judge Supreme hath willed,
In this drear wilderness to be,
This day and hour, fulfilled?
Death! death! but not the votive beast
By Aaron slain to lie:
Himself, the reverend first High-Priest
Of Israel, now must die!
No more for sins of theirs to stand
At God's all-holy shrine,
His life, and by an angel's hand,
In peace shall he resign.
By Aaron slain to lie:
Himself, the reverend first High-Priest
Of Israel, now must die!
No more for sins of theirs to stand
At God's all-holy shrine,
His life, and by an angel's hand,
In peace shall he resign.
270
The summons spoken from above,
Heard from Jehovah's throne,
A brother's melting voice of love
Makes to a brother known.
For He who on his mercy-seat
Illumed the Cherubim,
In glory veiled, his friend to meet,
Calls home that friend to him.
Heard from Jehovah's throne,
A brother's melting voice of love
Makes to a brother known.
For He who on his mercy-seat
Illumed the Cherubim,
In glory veiled, his friend to meet,
Calls home that friend to him.
From these dear tribes, whose names he wears
As jewels on his breast,
From sin and service, grief and cares,
The saint may pass to rest.
Now, all without their tents appear;
And every earnest eye,
Turned to the mount, betrays the tear,
And every breast, the sigh.
As jewels on his breast,
From sin and service, grief and cares,
The saint may pass to rest.
Now, all without their tents appear;
And every earnest eye,
Turned to the mount, betrays the tear,
And every breast, the sigh.
They see their aged father go
The rocky steep to climb,
With long farewell to all below,
To pass the bound of time.
His brother, who from Egypt's yoke
With him triumphant passed,—
With whom the Lord on Sinai spoke,
Goes with him to the last.
The rocky steep to climb,
With long farewell to all below,
To pass the bound of time.
His brother, who from Egypt's yoke
With him triumphant passed,—
With whom the Lord on Sinai spoke,
Goes with him to the last.
His son, Eleazar young and hale,
His honored heir to be,
Supports him; and from out the vale
Go up the kindred three.
They climb! they climb! their lessening forms
Surmount that rude ascent
So often crowned with lightning storms,—
Whose forehead bolts have rent.
His honored heir to be,
Supports him; and from out the vale
Go up the kindred three.
They climb! they climb! their lessening forms
Surmount that rude ascent
So often crowned with lightning storms,—
Whose forehead bolts have rent.
271
In view of all the people, now,
The little, solemn band
Have gained the mountain's frowning brow,
And, turning, made their stand:
For this is Aaron's dying bed!
He here must be undressed,
And his unmitred, hoary head
On earth's cold bosom rest.
The little, solemn band
Have gained the mountain's frowning brow,
And, turning, made their stand:
For this is Aaron's dying bed!
He here must be undressed,
And his unmitred, hoary head
On earth's cold bosom rest.
Of girdle, plate upon the breast,
Robe, mitre, one by one,
Doth Moses now the sire divest,
And place them on the son.
The father sinks,—he lies composed
On that wild desert clod;
His upturned eye is calmly closed;
His spirit soars to God!
Robe, mitre, one by one,
Doth Moses now the sire divest,
And place them on the son.
The father sinks,—he lies composed
On that wild desert clod;
His upturned eye is calmly closed;
His spirit soars to God!
On that stupendous mountain-top
His lonely grave is made;
And there the sacred relics drop
To silence, dust, and shade.
'T is done! O Israel, weep and mourn,
Ere you your march begin,
For him who long and oft hath borne
Your sacrifice for sin!
His lonely grave is made;
And there the sacred relics drop
To silence, dust, and shade.
'T is done! O Israel, weep and mourn,
Ere you your march begin,
For him who long and oft hath borne
Your sacrifice for sin!
Stand fast, thou solemn old Mount Hor,
Arrayed in desert gloom,
As what thy Builder reared thee for,
His chosen Servant's tomb.
The thunder round thy head may roar,
The forked lightnings play;
But Aaron sleeps: he wakes no more
Until the heavens give way!
Arrayed in desert gloom,
As what thy Builder reared thee for,
His chosen Servant's tomb.
The thunder round thy head may roar,
The forked lightnings play;
But Aaron sleeps: he wakes no more
Until the heavens give way!
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