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Home  »  Specimens of American Poetry  »  J. B. Van Schaick

Samuel Kettell, ed. Specimens of American Poetry. 1829.

By Joshua Commanding the Sun and Moon to Stand Still

J. B. Van Schaick

THE DAY rose clear on Gibeon. Her high towers

Flash’d the red sunbeams gloriously back,

And the wind-driven banners, and the steel

Of her ten thousand spears caught dazzlingly

The sun, and on the fortresses of rock

Play’d a soft glow, that as a mockery seem’d

To the stern men who girded by its light.

Beth-Horon in the distance slept, and breath

Was pleasant in the vale of Ajalon,

Where armed heels trod carelessly the sweet

Wild spices, and the trees of gum were shook

By the rude armor on their branches hung.

Suddenly in the camp without the walls

Rose a deep murmur, and the men of war

Gather’d around their kings, and “Joshua!

From Gilgal, Joshua!” was whisper’d low,

As with a secret fear, and then, at once,

With the abruptness of a dream, he stood

Upon the rock before them. Calmly then

Raised he his helm, and with his temples bare

And hands uplifted to the sky, he pray’d;—

“God of this people, hear! and let the sun

Stand upon Gibeon, still; and let the moon

Rest in the vale of Ajalon!” He ceased—

And lo! the moon sits motionless, and earth

Stands on her axis indolent. The sun

Pours the unmoving column of his rays

In undiminish’d heat; the hours stand still;

The shade hath stopp’d upon the dial’s face;

The clouds and vapors that at night are wont

To gather and enshroud the lower earth,

Are struggling with strange rays, breaking them up,

Scattering the misty phalanx like a wand,

Glancing o’er mountain tops, and shining down

In broken masses on the astonish’d plains.

The fever’d cattle group in wondering herds;

The weary birds go to their leafy nests,

But find no darkness there, and wander forth

On feeble, fluttering wing, to find a rest;

The parch’d, baked earth, undamp’d by usual dews,

Has gaped and crack’d, and heat, dry, mid-day heat,

Comes like a drunkard’s breath upon the heart.

On with thy armies, Joshua! The Lord

God of Sabaoth is the avenger now!

His voice is in the thunder, and his wrath

Poureth the beams of the retarded sun,

With the keen strength of arrows, on their sight.

The unwearied sun rides in the zenith sky;

Nature, obedient to her Maker’s voice,

Stops in full course all her mysterious wheels.

On! till avenging swords have drunk the blood

Of all Jehovah’s enemies, and till

Thy banners in returning triumph wave;

Then yonder orb shall set ’mid golden clouds,

And, while a dewy rain falls soft on earth,

Show in the heavens the glorious bow of God,

Shining, the rainbow banner of the skies.