WHEN the tribes, released from bondage, camped beside the Red Sea Coast

And beheld, in fear and trembling, the advance of Pharaoh's host,

They forgot the fiery pillar and the cloud by day as well,

"Was there lack of graves in Egypt?" cried the men of Israel.

So they murmured against Moses, scorned and mocked the man of God

As he bade them journey forward—till they saw his outstretched rod

And the waters, cleft asunder, right and left, with one accord,

Stilled and compassing a highway for the chosen of the Lord!

Through the wilderness He led them to their fathers' Promised Land

Where, secure, they stoned His prophets, till a heavy alien hand

Brought the final retribution, to captivity they came,

And the ten proud tribes were scattered to be lost in all but name.

But some say their woe's accomplished, that He calls them as of old

In a time of tribulation, by the prophets long foretold;

And the wise, who mock the prophets, may be ill advised to shirk

Recognition of a portent on the beaches of Dunkirk.

As it was in ancient Egypt, once again a seagirt coast

Bars their road and, hard behind them, sweeps a great and godless host;

Till the waters' eerie stillness wakes, with ne'er a spoken word,

Echoes of a far-off memory of the mercy of the Lord.

"Speak to them that they go forward!" and the waters, as of yore,

Stilled and levelled them a seaway as they passed from shore to shore;

While the cynics, who had questioned if a miracle can work,

Watched the answer, in amazement, from the beaches of Dunkirk.

So a newly wakened people, greatly holpen in distress,

Face, in faith renewed, the journey through a trackless wilderness;

For their beacon is the splendour of a dream that's coming true,

"Well done, good and faithful servants, who have built the world anew."