And cried aloud for mercy. But his prayer

Man might not answer, whom his God condemned. The ark swept onward, and the billows rose

And buried their last victim!

Then the gloom

Broke from the face of heaven, and sunlight

streamed

Upon the shoreless sea, and on the roof

That rose for shelter o'er the living germ
Whose increase should repopulate a world.

ANONYMOUS

9

NIMRUD AND THE GNAT

Heard ye of Nimrud? Cities fell before him;
Shinar, from Accad to the Indian Sea,
His garden was; as god men did adore him;
Queens were his slaves, and kings his vassalry.

Eminent on his car of carven brass,

Through foeman's blood nave-deep he drave his wheel;

And not a lion in the river-grass

Could keep its shaggy fell from Nimrud's steel.

But he scorned Allah-schemed a tower to invade Him;

Dreamed to scale Heaven, and measure might

with God;

Heaped high the foolish clay wherefrom We made him,

And built thereon his sevenfold house of the clod.

Therefore, the least Our messengers among,

We sent a grey gnat dancing in the reeds;
Into his ear she crept, buzzing,—and stung.
So perished mighty Nimrud and his deeds.

SIR EDWIN ARNOLD

ΙΟ

ABRAHAM AND HIS GODS

Beneath the full-eyed Syrian moon,
The Patriarch, lost in reverence, raised
His consecrated head, and soon

He knelt, and worshipped while he gazed:
"Surely that glorious orb on high
Must be the Lord of earth and sky!"

Slowly towards its central throne

The glory rose, yet paused not there,

But seemed by influence not its own

Drawn downwards through the western air,

Until it wholly sank away,

And the soft stars had all the sway.

Then to that hierarchy of light,

With face upturned the sage remained,—

"At least ye stand forever bright,

Your power has never waxed or waned!' E'en while he spoke, their work was done, Drowned in the overflowing sun.

Eastward he bent his eager eyes

"Creatures of Night! false gods and frail!

Take not the worship of the wise;

There is the Deity we hail;

Fountain of light and warmth and love;
He only bears our hearts above."

Yet was that One—that radiant One,
Who seemed so absolute a King,
Only ordained his round to run,
And pass like each created thing;
He rested not in noon-day prime,
But fell beneath the strength of time.

Then like one laboring without hope
To bring his toil to fruitful end,
And powerless to discern the scope
Whereto his aspirations tend,

Still Abraham prayed by night and day,
"God! teach me to what God to pray!"

Nor long in vain; an inward Light

Arose, to which the Sun is pale;

The knowledge of the Infinite,

The sense of Truth that must prevail;—

The presence of the only Lord,

By angels and by men adored.

LORD HOUGHTON (RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES)

II

HYMN

Genesis xii. 2-3

Where'er the Patriarch pitched his tent,
He built an altar to his God,
And sanctified, where'er he went,

With faith and prayer, the ground he trod.

Through all the East, for riches famed,— Heaven's gifts, he set his heart on none; Nor, when the dearest was reclaimed, Withheld his son, his only son.

Wherefore, in blessing, he was blest;
Friendless, the friend of God became;
Long-wandering, everywhere found rest;
Long-childless, nations bear his name.

My God, what Thou hast made my home,
Let me Thy sanctuary make;

My God, if called by Thee to roam,
Glad may I all for Thee forsake.

Thy law, Thy love be my delight;
Whate'er I do, or think, or am;
Walking by faith, and not by sight,

Be a true child of Abraham.

JAMES MONTGOMERY

12

THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM AND

GOMORRAH

Genesis xix. 24

O dread was the night when o'er Sodom's wide plain The fire of heaven descended;

For all that then bloomed, shall ne'er bloom there

again,

For man hath his Maker offended.

The midnight of terror and woe hath passed by,
The death-spirit's pinions are furled;

But the sun, as it beams clear and brilliant on high,
Turns from Sodom's dark, desolate world.

Here lies but that glassy, that death-stricken lake, As in mock'ry of what had been there;

The wild bird flies far from the dark nestling brake Which waves its scorched arms in the air.

In that city the wine-cup was brilliantly flowing, Joy held her high festival there;

Not a fond bosom dreaming (in luxury glowing), Of the close of that night of despair.

For the bride her handmaiden the garland was wreathing;

At the altar the bridegroom was waiting;

But vengeance impatiently round them was breath

ing,

And Death at that shrine was their greeting.