The Prophet Turned the Key
By Octave F. Ursenbach
The Prophet turned the Moses Key. When lo,
Like all pervading rays from yonder sun,
A hope, wide-spread, in hearts of men was born,
Impelling the rare urge, resounding full:
“Back, back to our tents, O, Israel.”
Great Judah’s hordes, in purpose firm, now stand –
Press on to repossess the Holy Land;
While Ephraim, from every land and tongue,
In mountain tops – to Zion’s ramparts throng.
The Prophet turned Elijah’s Key. When lo,
Began a wondrous urge in the hearts of men –
To ancestors long gone, now turned again,
Impelled, search cobwebbed annals of the past –
To weld great family links secure at last.
Great libraries genealogical,
With records of dead ancestors are full,
While, within Holy Temples, blessings spread
O’er millions upon millions of the dead.
The Prophet turned Elias’ Key. When lo,
The flood-gates of intelligence arise –
Majestically truth comes from yonder skies –
God’s spirit lavishly bestowed to men –
Young men see visions, old men dream, dream on.
Lo, yesterday’s achievements, scarcely past –
Today discarded – nearly red with rust,
While in the glare we wait the morrow’s dawn,
To see what God, with human aid, has done.
Work marvelous! Behold God’s great design;
His mercy, love and truth forever shine,
Encompassing within its great embrace,
Salvation for the entire human race.
Aghast, stand we to greet the Hundred Years –
Aspiring in our faith, our hope and fears,
To spend and be spent o’er and o’er again,
Preparing men for Christ’s majestic reign.