“The full moon rose o’er Anathoth, And gleamed upon the lone Dead Sea, Threw silver spears o’er Olivet And touched each hoary rock and tree. In solemn darkness Kedron lay; But all the wealth of light was poured Fondly upon Jerusalem, The ancient city of the Lord. As ivory her houses gleamed Against the blue of hill and sky, And all her slender towers arose, Like shafts of silver thrown on high. No sound profaned the holy scene, Save the sad jackal’s plaintive wail; No light of lamp, no ray of star, Disturbed the shadows blue and pale. And just so looked Jerusalem To Him, who, on the self-same spot, Would long ago have sheltered her Beneath His wing, but she would not. So she remains unchanged and lone, Till He shall come again and fold In the vast pity of His love Creeds, nations, empires, worlds untold.”[13] Footnote 13: “Jerusalem by Moonlight” (Margaret Thomas). “I like that,” said Patricia, with a sigh of enjoyment, when she had finished. “And oh, how glorious it is up here! No wonder our Saviour loved to come here when He wished to be alone. I like this better than all the other historic places we have seen, because it is the work of Nature, and there is no chance of its having been artificially disturbed. The same blue sky overhead, the same rocks and stones and flowers as were here over nineteen hundred years ago, when He walked and taught on these slopes. This is grander than all the churches which have been erected in His name; it is an everlasting witness—Heaven’s own natural church!” Surprised at her own effusiveness, she turned away and walked a few paces to the rear, alone. It was something to be remembered, this moonlight night on the Mount of Olives, with the sleeping city below; and the emotions of her newly-quickened soul—they were to be remembered too. How good was God; how fair was the earth; how sweet was life! Could she not say with Browning, “God’s in His Heaven, All’s right with the world”? for at this height the troublous details of human existence sank into insignificance compared with the grandeur of eternity which knows not time. With a strange feeling of exaltation she stooped down, and plucking a tiny flower from the rocky soil, pinned it gently to her breast. Then with a sigh of perfect contentment she rejoined her friends. No matter what sorrow there might be for her in the future, she was strong—she had braced herself to endure. CHAPTER X THE BLOW FALLS