Classic Poem

Go , ascend the green-clad mountain,
Moses, go, and gently die;
Gaze upon Siloam's fountain,
View Judaea's purple sky.

On the Jordan's swelling waters,
Fix but once thy fainting sight:
Then, amid thy sons and daughters,
Sink to death's oblivious night.

Olives' mount shall pass before thee,
Sharon's roses fill the air,
But thy God cannot restore thee,
To inhale the fragrance there:

For, beside the Rock when standing,
With the Rod of fairy might,
In thy feeble name commanding,
Water from the flinty height —

Then, my Servant, didst thou grieve me,
Then thy meekness changed to pride,
All thy goodness seemed to leave thee,
Calling forth the crystal tide.

Fondly had I thought to place thee,
In Judaea's fruitful dale,
But the earth-clod must encase thee,
And thy loss my people wail.

When thy heart hath ceased its bounding,
And thy sinewy arm is cold,
When thy voice no more is sounding
All my mighty deeds of old: —

Then, within a land of glory,
Brighter — fairer far than this,
Shalt thou chant Redemption's story,
And thy harp be strung to bliss.

Up he went, with staff ascending,
Wondrous visions cheered his eyes,
Angel bands his steps attending,
Leading him to Paradise.

Thus he stood — a Pilgrim hoary,
Waiting meekly but to die,
And dishonor changed to glory,
Time to Immortality.