Chapter I

LEADER of armies, Israel's God, Thy soldier's fight is won! Master, whose lowly path he trod, Thy servant's work is done!

No voice is heard from Sinai's steep Our wandering feet to guide; From Horeb's rock no waters leap; No Jordan's waves divide;

No prophet cleaves our western sky On wheels of whirling fire; No shepherds hear the song on high Of heaven's angelic choir.

Yet here as to the patriarch's tent God's angel comes a guest; He comes on heaven's high errand sent, In earth's poor raiment drest.

We see no halo round his brow Till love its own recalls, And, like a leaf that quits the bough, The mortal vesture falls.

In autumn's chill declining day, Ere winter's killing frost, The message came; so passed away The friend our earth has lost.

Still, Father, in thy love we trust; Forgive us if we mourn The saddening hour that laid in dust His robe of flesh outworn.