Classic Poem

A strange awe lay upon the silent tents
Of Israel, when the three, — their aged chief,
Aaron his brother and his brother's son, —
Pass'd through the camp. Men, women, little ones
Stood in the tent-doors gazing. Never a word
Was spoken, as the priest so pale and calm,
In all his robes pontifical array'd,
Walk'd through the trembling multitudes. They knew
They should not see his reverend form again:
He knew he was about to meet his God.
But when the camp was left, then Aaron gave,
In measured words and slow, his latest charge
To Eleazar; — words of noble faith,
As one who long had proved Jehovah's power;
Words of stern warning, being he himself
Had proved the weakness of the heart of man; —
Few words but graven on the soul henceforth.
Still onward, upward led the path; and ere
They gain'd with patient steps the ridge of Hor
The sun was sloping towards the western sea.
And then, — in sooth he knew it was not long
Before himself upon another mount
Should yield his spirit to the hands of God, —
Moses with firm unfaltering hand stripp'd off
His brother's priestly garments, and therewith
Clothed one who shudder'd to receive them. Then
A heavenly radiance shone in Aaron's eye
And, lifting up his hands to bless them both,
Even as the words of blessing pass'd his lips,
He knelt, he sank, he fell upon the earth:
The fire was dimm'd, the lamp of life was quench'd,
The eyelids closed in death. And Aaron slept.
And where he sank they scoop'd his narrow grave;
And piled the massive stones for sepulchre:
And all the weight of Israel's ministry
On Eleazar rested. So it was
The priest was dead, the priesthood never died.
O Thou, who through the grave and gate of death
Hast pass'd to glory in the highest heavens,
Who livest still for us to intercede,
Vouchsafe us evermore to rest in Thee,
Our One Eternal Priest unchangeable,
As from the everlasting yesterday,
So through to-day's innumerable needs,
For ever and for ever still the same.