Poem December 25, 1948 Issue

THE STAR

Harold Vinal

They were a people who for forty years
Pitched their great tents against the burning dark,
Drank from the brook at Eshcol, and shed tears
Upon the meads of Ain and saw the ark
Borne before Moses. What Truth led them on
We only, who have tasted it, can say.
Evening still falls on Bethlehem, and dawn
Still breaks on lowly Nazareth today.

Moab and Hamath were abundant land
Unto the chosen, and the fields were sweet
With figs and honey, and on every hand
The promise beckoned. Against rain and heat
We too must journey from Hazar-addar,
Led like the Magi by a holy star.

Harold Vinal

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