This Is the Place

By Ruth May Fox

There is a place by prophets long foretold,
Where God would gather Israel in one fold;
Deliver them from wicked tyranny,
And lead them forward to their destiny.
Where is the place?

Oh Lord, our God, for truth and thy dear name
We’re mobbed and beaten, our prophet slain,
Our homes despoiled. In vain we seek redress.
Our only lodging is a wilderness.
Where is the place?

“Be not dismayed,” said one so great and wise;
“We’ll wend our way toward the western skies;
Though wild beasts howl and demons bar the way,
We’ll put an end to this nefarious fray.”
We’ll find the place.

So forth they fared o’er desert, mount, and stream—
A sure fulfilment of their prophet’s dream;
Faith whispered oft: “Jehovah bade the sea
Roll back that ancient Israel might be free.”
We’ll find the place.

Another hill to climb! Oh, weary day!
Will it never end, this arduous way?
The hilltop gained, what wonder and surprise!
A scene of marvelous beauty met their eyes.
A lovely place.

Behold a valley spreading far and wide;
Majestic mountains guarding every side;
Blue skies, a glistening inland sea;
While over all the sun shone gloriously.
Is this the place?

“No,” murmured some. “No mortal could withstand
This awful desolation—this arid land;
There’s not a blade of grass, scarcely a tree;
Let us move on. Oh Lord, we ask of thee,
Show us the place.”

Their leader pondered; with searching gaze
He saw a city beautiful, with days
Of peace, fruitful fields, and gardens fair.
A towering temple, roses everywhere.
He turned and said:
“This is the place!”5