As in a vision
I beheld the long, long trail—
Vast wilderness, with here and there a bloom
Spreading persistent grace,
That starred the arid reaches.

And all along the trail
The women passed, each with a burden;
And some bore their burden as a cross,
And staggered on, brows bent to earth,
Still unaware of guiding fire and pillared cloud of promise;

Others went singing!
With unsandaled feet they journeyed, singing!
And left their prints along the roughest way
For sign and signal.

And I beheld how others bore
Deep earthen jars,
Which steadfastly they filled
At every water course.
And ever thirsting lips, along the way,
They blessed with goodly drafts,
Poured from the vessels they thus carried far,
And kept all pure to serve another's need—
Crude earthen vessels, borne with such high grace
As made them precious;
Filled oftentimes at Marah's bitter springs,
With patient hopefulness
That rendered sweet the draft held out so eagerly
To assuage the thirst of those
Who journeyed steadfast on the long, long trail.