Lo! a mighty host of Jacob
Tented on the western shores
Of the mighty Mississippi,
Which they had been crossing o’er;
At the last day’s dawn of winter,
Bound with frost and wrapt in snow:
Hark! the sound is onward, onward!
Camp of Israel! rise and go.
All at once is life and motion,
Trunks and beds, and baggage fly;
Oxen yok’d and horses harness’d,—
Tents roll’d up, are passing by;
Soon the carriage-wheels are rolling
Onward to a woodland dell,
Where, at sunset, all are quarter’d:
Camp of Israel! all is well.
Thickly round the tents are cluster’d
Neighbouring smokes, together blend;
Supper serv’d, the hymns are chanted,
And the evening prayers ascend.
Last of all the guards are station’d:
Heavens! guards are serving here;
Who would harm these homeless exiles?
Camp of Israel! never fear.
Though we cannot see the future
Nor the road that lies ahead
On the morrow we'll take journey
By hope and heaven led
Therefore, to your tents, O Jacob!
Like our father Abram dwell;
God will execute his purpose:
Camp of Israel! all is well.