Pleasanter perhaps for Elijah
If only Cherith had not failed him.
Pleasanter to have rested there
Drinking the clear brook water, fed by the ravens,
Alone with God in the quiet—
Pleasanter than submit himself to the rigor
Of that poor widow's home in Zarephath.
Day after day after day for many days,
Never a full barrel of meal,
Never a full cruse of oil,
Each day a little meal, each day a little oil;
Bottom of the barrel, bottom of the cruse,
Ever impending—
Insufficient that meagerness to prove to the widow
He was really the prophet God promised to send her.
Elijah was learning of God as Life,
As man's eternal sustenance.
Then there came the happy day
He raised the widow's son from death
And heard her joyous, free acknowledgment,
"By this I know thou art a man of God,
And that His word in thy mouth is truth!"
Here was but humble proof presaging
The chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof,
The whirlwind of God and heaven.
