The Burial of Moses
On this side Jordan’s wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab,
There lies a lonely grave.
But no man built that sepulchre,
And no man saw it e’er;
For the angels of God upturned the sod
And laid the dead man there.
That was the grandest funeral
That ever passed on earth;
Yet no man heard the trampling,
Or saw the train go forth:
Noiselessly as the daylight
Comes when the night is done,
And the crimson streak on ocean’s cheek
Grows into the great sun.
Perchance the bald old eagle
On grey Beth-peor’s height
Out of his rocky eyrie
Looked on the wondrous sight;
Perchance the lion stalking
Still shuns that hallowed spot;
For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knoweth not.
This was the bravest warrior
That ever buckled sword;
This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word;
And never earth’s philosopher
Traced with his golden pen
On the deathless page truths half so sage
As he wrote down for men.
C. F. ALEXANDER.