he laws of our Lord, and
ceremonies, and had governed them forty years, and that he was an
hundred and twenty years old, he ascended from the fields of Moab upon
the mountain of Nebo into the top of Pisgah against Jericho, and there
our Lord showed to him all the land of Gilead unto Dan, and the land of
promise from that one end unto that other. And then our Lord said to
him: This is the land that I promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
saying: I shall give it to thy seed. Now thou hast seen it with thine
eyes, and shalt not enter ne come therein. And there in that place died
Moses, servant of our Lord, as God commanded, and was buried in the vale
of the land of Moab against Beth-peor. And yet never man knew his
sepulchre unto this day. Moses was an hundred and twenty years old when
he died, his eyes never dimmed, ne his teeth were never moved. The
children of Israel wept and mourned for him thirty days in the fields of
Moab. Joshua the son of Nun was replenished with the spirit of wisdom;
for Moses set on him his hands, and the children obeyed him as our Lord
had commanded to Moses. And there was never after a prophet in Israel
like unto Moses, which knew and spake to God face to face in all signs
and tokens that God did and showed by him in the land of Egypt to
Pharaoh and all his servants.

THE BURIAL OF MOSES

By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab
There lies a lonely grave.
And no man knows that sepulchre,
And no man saw it e'er,
For the angels of God upturned the sod,
And laid the dead man there.

That was the grandest funeral
That ever passed on earth;
But no man heard the trampling,
Or saw the train go forth--
Noiselessly as the daylight
Comes back when night is done,
And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek
Grows into the great sun.

Noiselessly as the springtime
Her crown of verdure weaves,
And all the trees on all the hills
Open their thousand leaves;
So without sound of music,
Or voice of them that wept,
Silently down from the mountain's crown
The great procession swept.

Perchance the bald old eagle,
On gray Beth-peor's height,
Out of his lonely eyrie
Looked on the wondrous sight;
Perchance the lion stalking,
Still shuns that hallowed spot,
For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knoweth not.

But when the warrior dieth,
His comrades in the war,
With arms reversed and muffled drum,