It always felt to me a wrong
To that old Moses done,
To let him see the Canaan
Without the entering.
And though in soberer moments
No Moses there can be,
I’m satisfied the romance
In point of injury
Surpasses sharper stated
Of Stephen or of Paul;
For these were only put to death,
While God’s adroiter will
On Moses seemed to fasten
In tantalizing play—
As Boy should deal
With lesser Boy
To show supremacy.
The fault was doubtless
Israel’s;
Myself had banned the Tribes,
And ushered grand old Moses
In pentateuchal robes
Upon the broad possession
But titled him to see.
Old Man on Nebo! Late as this
One Justice bleeds for thee!
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