Poem August 11, 1951 Issue

DRY-SHOD THEY WALK

Nancy E. Barnhart

Dry-shod they walk across the sand
Where late the Red Sea rolled,
For Israel's tried and holy band
Is safe within the fold.

Now Egypt's princes, rushing on
To claim their fleeing slaves,
Can never see the solid ground;
They only see the waves.

Strong fact for folly, life for death,
God governs still.
A light by night, a shade by day,
He does His will.

Nancy E. Barnhart

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