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Unknown the pangs of deep travail,
Or anxious hours of labor;
Unheard, as yet, her firstborn's wail,
She knelt to seek God's favor.
Her body swayed beneath the land,
She found no voice to speak;
Twas Eli who applied the goad,
The labor, made her weak.
Despite all odds, a vow was made,
Before she held her son;
Her faith in God was not dismayed,
The victory must he won.
She rose in h hope. He held her hand.
The silent prayer was done;
She heard not Eli's reprimand -
God read her lips - He gave the son.
-Elizabeth Wallace Morehead-
Copyright owned by the
Wallace and Morehead
families.
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