His spirit shook with dread,
And call’d the cedars, in that hour,
To veil his conscious head.
Oh! in each wind, each fountain-flow,
Each whisper of the shade,
Grant me, my God! thy voice to know,
And not to be afraid!
THE FOUNTAIN OF MARAH.
“And when they came to Marah, they could not drink of the waters of Marah, for they were bitter.
“And the people murmured against Moses, saying, What shall we drink?