Three long days of desert sunshine, toiling 'neath those scorching beams,
Three long nights of heavy silence, gladdened by no sound of streams.

Hear the waters now around us! see them sparkling in the sun!
Surely now our trial ceaseth!—surely now our goal is won!

Lips long parched and sealed in silence press the joyous waves to kiss;
Eyes whose tears were dried by anguish overflow with tears of bliss;

Toil-worn men, themselves untasting, leave to dearer lips the prize,
Drinking draughts of deeper pleasure from the smile of grateful eyes.

But a moment! but a moment may the rapturous dream remain;
But a moment! from the nation bursts a sob of wildest pain.

Children dash the bitter waters from them with a moaning cry;
Mothers, by the mocking fountains, lay their little ones to die.

Hearts that bore the trial bravely, with this shattered hope have burst;
Streams for which we prayed and waited, bitter streams, but mock our thirst.

Was it but for this the ocean, parting, bent our feet to kiss,
Fiercely then our foes o'erwhelming? Were our first-born spared for this?

Better to be slaves in Egypt! better to have perished there!
Better ne'er a hope have tasted, than to sink in this despair.

Israel! Israel! hush thy murmurs, hide thy guilty head in dust!
He who is the Joy of heaven feeleth grief in thy distrust.

Gently to thy wails He answers, “I am He that healeth thee;”
E'en to-day the streams thou loathest shall thy best refreshment be.

And to-morrow, but to-morrow, He thy sins so often grieve,
Trains thee for, and storeth for thee, joys thy heart can scarce conceive.

Coolest waters leaping, gushing 'neath the shade of many a palm!
Let no memory of murmurs mar for thee that blessed calm.

So thy Marah shall be Elim, and thy Elim know no fears,
For the fount of deepest gladness springeth near the place of tears.