Set on a knoll above the river
Jordan, the town loomed big and threatening over the little camp
of the Galilean pilgrims. But they kept aloof from it, because it
was a city of the heathen. Its theatres and temples and palaces
were accursed. The tents were indifferent to the city, and when
the night opened its star-fields above them and the heavenly lights
rose over the mountains of Moab and Samaria, the Boy's clear voice
joined in the slumber-song of the pilgrims:
"I will lift up mine eyes to the hilis,
From whence cometh my help;
My help cometh from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not suffer thy foot to stumble,
He who keepeth thee will not slumber.
Behold, He who guardeth Israel
Will neither slumber nor sleep."
Then they drew their woollen cloaks over their heads and rested on
the ground in peace.
For two days their way led through the wide valley of the Jordan,
along the level land that stretched from the mountains on either
side to the rough gulch where the river was raging through its
jungle.
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