“And I shall see the Bed Sea that the Israelites crossed over long ago,” said a child to a friend when leaving Australia for England.
“And I shall sail upon the great blue deep,
Far, far away!
Where the great waves across the ocean sweep,
As if at play.
“And oh! how I shall love to travel o’er
That same Red Sea,
Where Israel walked to reach the distant shore,
From danger free.
“And might I gather but one pearly shell,
From that far coast,
Where overwhelming floods did swiftly quell
Proud Pharaoh’s host!”
Sweet babe! no desert’s weary track for thee,
No Red Sea’s gloom;
Beneath the pearly deep, the crystal sea,
Thy early tomb.
O’er Jordan’s flood by angel pinions borne,
Thy better part;
To Canaan’s land, ere yet by grief was torn,
Thy tender heart.
While yet thy robe of innocence was white,
Oh happiest child!
Thy Father’s hand withdrew thee from our sight,
Still undefiled.
A little longer, ye who held him dear,
Your loved, your own;
The Red Sea crossed, must tread the desert drear,
But not alone.
The hand that snatched him from your warm embrace,
A Father’s hand—
Will lead you to his happy dwelling place,
That better land.