From the Hand of This Philistine

ROSA M. TURNER

I hear to-day the echo of a voice
That rang in Judah's hills long years ago!
A slender boy clad in a shepherd's coat,
And in his hand a sling: from out the brook
That rippled in sweet purity along
He took five stones—rounded, decisive thoughts;
And with his face aglow, his courage high,
He buckled on his armor of defense—
The consciousness of God's omnipotence.
Behold, said he to those who bade him stay,
The God who saved me from the lion's paw,
And from the clutches of the angry bear,
Will save me from this Philistine to-day,
And in His name, the Lord of hosts, I go!

To me that voice from Judah's far-off hills
Comes echoing clear. The Philistine
Oppresses me with many a boastful taunt,
A giant form clad in aggressive pride.
Let me remember now the shepherd boy,
His rounded stones, his armor of defense,
His childlike trust in God's omnipotence;
Remember that, to me, a lion came
Threatening the flock my Father bade me keep:
Then Love's strong hand delivered me from harm.
And the same Love will compass me to-day
And from this Philistine deliver me.

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From the Hand of This Philistine

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