When Judges ruled the tribes of Israel,
A cruel famine on the people fell,
Till even Bethlehem, the "House of Bread,"
For meat and drink at last was sore bestead.
Then when they called upon Jehovah's name,
This answer to their heart's petition came:
"Send forth your strong into the land where Lot
The might of Moab and his race begot--
"Your kinsfolk they: there still the streams run quick,
Still grass and corn are laughing high and thick."
Therefore adventuring forth, the bold and strong
Their famished flocks and herds drove each along,
Till Moab's high-set plain and warm, wide valleys
Wherefrom clear-watered Arnon westward sallies,
Rejoiced they reached: there welcome found and there
Release from want, of wealth a goodly share.
With these Elimelech and his precious ones,
His wife Naomi and his two brave sons,
Mahlon and Chilion, Jordan's shrunken tide
Crossed, and at Hesbon stayed and occupied.
And there they prospered for a blessed time
Until Elimelech in his lordly prime,
Hasting those cattle-spoilers to pursue,
The ambuscading sons of Anak slew.
Then Chilion and Mahlon, by the voice
Of their good mother guided, made their choice
Amongst the maids of Moab for their wives:
And so, a ten years' space lived joyful lives.
Till pestilence o'ertook the brothers; naught
Of wives' or mothers' care availed them aught,
But, blessing both, their sight was quenched in gloom;
Three widows wept o'er their untimely tomb.
Then when their days of mourning now were o'er,
Fresh tidings came from Jordan's further shore:
"Judaea's years of famine now are passed,
And joyous plenty crowns her fields at last."
Naomi then outspake: "Dear daughters lone,
Yea, dearer for their sakes who now are gone
Than if indeed ye were my very own
Born children, hearken to Naomi's voice
Who of all Moabs' maids made you her choice!
"Good wives and fond, as ever cherished
Husband, were ye unto my two sons dead,
Diligent weavers of their household wool,
True joy-mates when their cup of bliss was full,
Kind comforters in sorrow or in pain.
Alloy was none, but one to mar life's golden chain.
"No child, dear Orpah, loving Ruth, have ye
To suckle or to dance upon your knee,
No other sons have I your hearts to woo--
Grandchildren can be none from me to you.
Therefore, my daughters, O, consider well
Since you are young, and fair and so excel
In every homecraft, were it not more wise
No longer to refuse to turn your eyes
Towards the suitors brave who, now your days
Of mourning are accomplished, fix their gaze
Upon your goings? Verily now 'twere right
That you should each a noble Moabite
Espouse, till, with another's love accost,
Your childless grief in motherhood be lost.
And I, why should I tarry longer here
To be a burden on you year by year?
Kinsfolk and friends have I at Bethlehem
Where plenty reigns; I will go back to them--"
Then much they both besought her to remain,
And yet her purpose neither could restrain;
Therefore her goods to gather she began
Against the passing of the caravan.
But Ruth and Orpah each prepared also
Beside her unto Bethlehem to go.
And now the three stand ready, full of tears
To quit the haunts of happy married years,
The tombs that hid their lost ones. Staunchly then
Naomi spoke her purpose once again:
"Daughters, turn back, each to her mother's house
To take the rest that there her work allows,
And in due course a second husband find,
Nor be unto the future foolish--blind!
Yet take a blessing from the heart of hearts
Of your Naomi ere she hence departs."
She blessed them, and with voices lifted up
In loud lament the dregs of sorrow's cup
They drained together. Orpah, weeping, turned
And slowly went, but Ruth with eyes that yearned
Into Naomi's, cried aloud in pain:
"Thus to forsake thee, urge me not again,
Nor to return from following after thee!
For where thou goest, I will surely go.
And where thou lodgest, will I lodge also!
Thy people shall be my people evermore,
And thy God only will I now adore!
And where thou diest, I will buried be!
So may Jehovah strike me with his thunder,
If aught but only death our lives shall sunder."
Ruth's lips have sealed that solemn covenant,
Then with Naomi hand in hand she went.
But as they slept that night there came to each
The selfsame vision, though they ne'er had speech
Thereon, till Obed's birth, Ruth's only son
And David's grandsire; for they each saw one
With Mahlon's aspect seated in the skies,
And on his knees a babe with Ruth's own eyes,
And by the infant's side one with a face
Ruddy and bold, a form of Kingly grace,
And in his hand a harp wherefrom he drew
Marvellous music while his songs thereto
Held hosts of angels hearkening in the blue.
Then figures floated o'er him faint and far
Up to a Child who rode upon a star,
And in the Heavenly wonder of his face,
They read the Ransom of the Human Race.