It’s a far, far road from Egypt
     To our own, our happy land,
From the pyramids of Egypt
     Built beneath the tyrant’s hand;
Its road so strange and marvelous
     That few can understand.

See, the Lord had passed us over
     For his sign upon our gate!
He has spared the crushed and driven,
     He has judged the proud and great.
When the hosts of Israel rise to go
     He makes the crooked straight.

It’s a far, far road to Zion
     For the slave afraid to flee;
He must pass through flood and desert,
     Yet his land he shall not see.
But the man that knows the sign of God
     On Pesach eve is free.

This poem is in the public domain.