Mary Jacqueline Simon Moo

Jacqueline S. Moore] (1926-2002 / Hannibal, Missouri,

Moses

In Egypt reigned a wicked king,
Whose every act was vile-
He took the Hebrews' baby boys
And drowned them in the Nile.

What must have been the mother's grief
To see her hope and joy,
Dragged from her arms and borne away
For monsters to destroy!

Thrown to devouring crocodiles,
Or plunged beneath the wave-
And yet 'twas better thus to die-
Than live to be a slave.

The Hebrews were in bondage then,
And suffered great distress;
Until at last their cry went up
To Heaven for redress.

At such a time was Moses born,
But God was strong to save
The future hope of Jacob's race,
From such a watery grave.

For three long months good Jokabed
Her little son concealed,
And then she carried out the plan
Which doubtless God revealed.

She placed her baby in an ark,
And laid it near the path
Where Pharoah's daughter daily came,
To have her wonted bath.

The anxious mother prays in faith,
Anon with hope elate;
While Miriam stands sentinel
To watch her brother's fate.

The Princess comes and finds the child;
It weeps- her heart is won-
A nurse is called and Jakobed
Receives her darling son.

And with a loving mother's care
She sows the holy seeds,
Which yield their fruit in after years,
In great and mighty deeds.

Tho' heir presumptive to the Crown,
As Pharoah's daughter's son,
God's people and their poverty
Are prized above a throne.

Through faith he made his noble choice,
Because he had regard
To that eternal recompense-
The saints' assured reward.

God honours them that honour Him,
And Moses is a name,
Which in the foremost ranks above
Commands the highest fame.

Then let his noble choice be mine
To choose the better part,
And have the promises divine
Deep-hidden in my heart.
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