Lonely and worn by day's dull toil and heat,
Life lay before me stark, and dead, and drear;
Night had engulfed the desert, and a fear
Was on me as of slow, resistless feet
Of foes invisible, from whom retreat
Denied me respite! I knew the moment near—
Jehovah's hand uplifted, and His spear
Down-glancing through the dark my heart to meet;
And as I crouched to take the stroke that fell
Swift from the sky, a cloud of cherubim
Burst on my vision with a mighty song
That filled the wilderness, as though a bell
Chimed from afar. Then someone said: "Be strong,
Son of the Highest! Find thyself in Him!"