Front matter
Reading edition
It was the Road to Jericho
By Annie Fellows Johnston
Author of
The
Little Colonel·
The Desert of
Waiting·
Etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN R NEILL
NEW YORK
BRITTON PUBLISHING COMPANY
Copyright 1919 by Annie Fellows Johnston
It Was the Road to Jericho
It was the road to Jericho, And brave indeed the man Who went alone and waited not To join the caravan.
For robber hoards swooped down the cliffs Like eagles on their prey, And mercy was not known to them, Theirs but to kill and slay.
Along the road to Jericho A man went riding by, He heard a groan of mortal pain, He heard a piercing cry.
He got him down from off his beast, He found the one who bled, The thieves had bruised and beaten him And left him well nigh dead
(The Levite and the priest had passed, The calls to them were vain). He bound his wounds. With oil and wine He eased the grevious pain.
Then to the inn he carried him And paid the keeper's price, As one who does a deed for love, Nor counts it sacrifice.
Lo, as he passed upon his way, His robe it showed a stain— Two red marks on his white sleeve, where The bleeding head had lain.
One, made in pity when he stooped To lift the wounded up, The other, when in love he bent To offer him the cup.
Two red, red lines which made a cross, And marked him as the man Whose name is, till the end of time "The good Samaritan."