Their broken chains, when God arose and shut
The gates of promise on their lives, and left
Their bones to bleach beneath Arabia’s desert sands
But though they slumbered in the wild, they died
With broader freedom on their lips, and for their
Little ones did God reserve the heritage
So rudely thrust aside.
THE DEATH OF MOSES.—Chapter IX.
His work was done; his blessing lay
Like precious ointment on his people’s head,