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ISRAEL'S CAMP
The Mormon Legacy

Winter's snow lay a heavy bed,
The River froze in mid-winter's cold-,
Men, women and children, for safety fled
From anguish, pain and sorrow's hold.

Leaving the warmth of homes aside,
Across the ice, their wagons wrest-,
Their hopes of peace in Nauvoo died,
But New Hope was found in the unknown west.

Onward they pressed across Iowa's Plaines,
The caravans for two years moved,
Old men's graves and widow's pains,
The Prophet Joseph's vision proved.

All around the Saints dust arose and flew,
And wagon wheels, in mud were mired,
A gasp of breath from the weary oxen drew,
The wagons on, as day expired.

It was the setting prairie sun
that called the laboring Saints to cease,
Though weary they were, still they found some fun,
In song and dance, they sought release.

Prayer was their constant guide along,
the painful miles as they passed,
With God, they never could go wrong,
Forgetting not, their solemn fast.

Yet Joy followed them steadily on,
As day to day, their labors grew.
"Come, Come ye Saints" became their song,
Which gave them strength and Hope anew.

To the Promised Land, they joyfully went,
Fifteen miles a day they trod,
Six days a week their movement spent,
But the Sabbath Day belonged to God.

While Indians the other settlers fought,
The Saints were told to share their beans,
And through their brotherly love they taught,
That God spares those who share their means.

At Emigration Canyon, Brother Brigham said,
"This is the place," as emotion stirred,
While some did faint and other's fled,
Most Saint's believed in their Prophet's word.

Though comforts of home were left behind,
And sickness followed cold and damp-,
The world amazed today, can't find
The Faith found then, in Israel's Camp.

Ken Jaccard
© February 14, 1973
All Rights Reserved
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This poem reflects my faith and belief in the Lord's Restored Church
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

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