Naomi was a noble dame,

In Bethlehem-Judah born; The bride of young Elimelech In life's fair, cloudless morn.

Not cloudless long! the tempest rose,
And threatened to destroy
The fortunes of this virtuous pair,
With all their promised joy.

Pale famine, with his meagre hand,
Filled every heart with grief;
Thousands were starving in the land-
Where shall they seek relief?

Beyond proud Jordan's rolling stream
The plains of Moab lie:
Its fertile valleys, hills and groves
Are pleasant to the eye.

Israel is subject to the king

Who conquered in his might;
And would not Bethlehem's suffering sons
Find favour in his sight?

Naomi meekly bowed her head
Beneath the painful stroke;
Then raised her mild and tearful eye,
As to her lord she spoke:

"True-we must leave our native land,
And all we hold most dear,
And seek upon a foreign strand
The bread we find not here.

"But oh! Elimilech, my lord,
Thou wilt be with me there;
Mahlon and Chilion, noble sons,
Our exile too will share.

"Why should Naomi then repine?
The God of Israel reigns
In heathen Moab's fruitful lands
As in Judea's plains."

'Twas on a bright and sunny morn,
With heavy hearts they left
The much loved plains of Bethlehem,
Of hope and joy bereft.

They bade a long and sad farewell,
While fervently they pray
That Judah's God will guide their march
Upon their joyless way.

At length the exiles wound their path
Around the city wall,
Naomi rallied all her strength
Her spirits to recall.

And Moab opened wide his gate
A welcome to bestow;
That lofty step, that stately port
A man of rank doth show.

And Naomi, his virtuous wife,
Her gentleness of mien,
Her polished manners so refined,
Would well befit a queen.

His elegant, accomplished sons,
So beautiful and bold,
Found favour in King Eglon's eyes;
With lords they were enrolled.

Among the nobles of the land
They grace his festive board,
They share the honours of his court,
Which freely round them poured.

The monarch gave to Mahlon's arms
His peerless daughter Ruth;

As rich in virtue as in charms
In modesty and truth.

To Chilion he a noble maid
Of royal lineage gave;

The beauteous Orpah loved the youth,
For he was good and brave.

Naomi blessed her father's God
For all his mercies shown
To her and all her exiled house,
When strangers and alone.

Alas! how short-lived was their joy;
The blast of war blew shrill;
The sword of desolation flew
O'er mountain, dale and hill.

The mighty Eglon was dethroned
By Ehud's strength and power,
And death and carnage hovered round
Each battlement and tower.

Elimelech-the life and light
Of poor Naomi's eye-
And Chilion, beautiful and brave,
Within the cold grave lie!

Their all was lost, their vast estates
Passed into stranger hands,
Their lands, their jewels, and their wealth,
A prey to ruffian bands.

Mahlon, of all their house, was left
The females to maintain,.
And well his noble nature strove
His duties to sustain.

At length the fatal summons came,
And Mahlon too must die!

Oh! where in this extremity
Shall poor Naomi fly?

For him the palace walls were hung
With dark and sad array;
For him ascends the funeral wail,
O'er this his lifeless clay!

And Ruth, the lovely, suffering Ruth!
Oh! whither shall she turn?
Cold is that bosom, still that heart;
She must forever mourn!

Naomi's lofty spirit rose
As high the billows roll,
The Rock of Ages stayed her feet,
Sustained her sinking soul.

Poor Ruth! with face and lip as pale
As Mahlon's lifeless clay,
Upon his tender mother's lap
Almost as lifeless lay.

"Arise, my sweet, my gentle Ruth,"
The fond Naomi cried,
"Arise, my fair, my widow'd love,
My Mahlon's faithful bride!

"I cannot bear to see thee thus,
My bright and peerless one;
Live to support this aged frame
Till my sad race is run!"

Feebly she raised her drooping head,
To hear the fond appeal
Of the dear mother of her lord,

Then at her feet did kneel;

"Mother of Mahlon! hear my vow,
In this sad presence made-
To thee I'll cling through weal and woe,
Till by his side I'm laid!

"With every mem'ry of the past
Thy image is replete,
And all the happy hours I've spent
In our once loved retreat:

"Oh! never will those days return,
For, sealed in cheerless night
Are the familiar forms I loved,
And banished from my sight;

"With thee I've wept in cold despair,
Over his silent bier;
My life to thee I now devote

Thy future days to cheer!"

Fair Orpah marked with wondering eyes
Naomi's bearing high,

And marvelled what Almighty power
Suppress'd the heaving sigh.

This high-soul'd woman stood erect
Amid the raging storm,
While sorrow rankled in a heart
With generous feelings warm:

Like some tall tree she firmly stands,
Nor bowed beneath the blast;
'Twas hers to prop that falling house
Which now was sinking fast.

The honours of their ancient name
Must be revived in Ruth;
Elimelech, her lord, was dead,
And both her sons in youth: