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That weave their golden threads among the sombreTissues of our lives, and shimmer still amidThe gloom and shadows of our lot. AgainI heard thee tell of Abraham, with his constantFaith and earnest trust in God, unto whomThe promise came that in his seed should allThe nations of the earth be blessed. Of IsaacBlessing with disappointed lips his first born son,From whom the birthright had departed. Of Jacob,With his warm affections and his devious ways,Flying before the wrath of Esau; how heSlumbered in the wild, and saw amid his dreamsA ladder reaching to the sky, on which God'sAngels did descend, and waking, with a solemnAwe o'ershadowing all, his soul exclaimed, 'HowDreadful is this place. Lo! God is here, and IKnew it not.' Of Joseph, once a mighty princeWithin this land, who shrank in holy horrorFrom the soft white hand that beckoned him to sin;Whose heart, amid the pleasures, pomp and prideOf Egypt, was ever faithful to his race,And when his life was trembling on its frailest chordHe turned his dying eyes to Canaan, and madeHis brethren swear that they would make his graveAmong the patriarchs of his line, becauseMachpelah's cave, where Abraham bowed beforeThe sons of Heth, and bought a place to layHis loved and cherished dead, was dearer to hisDying heart than the proudest tomb amidThe princely dead of Egypt.
