Classic Poem

Her home lay by that inland sea
Which sacred memories so embalm:
That Magdala and Galilee
Ring like the music of a psalm.

Deep in the lake the far hills glow,
Clear shine each peak and golden spire,
And Hermon lifts his brow of snow
Unsullied to that sky of fire.

From point to point gleamed cities white,
Full of the joyous stir of life,
And o'er the waves boats bounded light;
All was with eager movement rife

Fresh streams across Gennesaret danced,
Laughing with corn and countless fruits,
And met the quiet waves which glanced
Bathing the oleander roots.

Yet many a calm recess for prayer
Those hills enshrined which circling stood,
Wild steeps which to men's homes brought near
The sanctity of solitude.

But vainly, round her and beneath
Earth poured her wealth, as evermore
Flows Jordan to the Sea of Death,
And leaves it bitter as before.