There they encamp.-Meantime the tyrant's breast,
(So soon the dread of judgment is supprest)
Glows with revenge. "Shall Pharaoh then, (he cried)
By Israel's rebel tribes be thus defied?
A dastard host of contumelious slaves
Spurns my supremacy, my vengeance braves.
Shall Egypt's King submit, and let foul shame
Blast the fair honours of his royal name?
No.-Perish all, victims to Pharaoh's rage,
Who dare presumptuous war 'gainst Egypt wage.—
Fortune no more the sanguine hope beguiles;
Prompt to our wish, the partial goddess smiles.
Near the deep stream encamp'd, the tribes afford
An easy prey to Egypt's thirsty sword.
And shall we, summon'd by benignant fate,
Though thus dishonour'd, still inactive wait?
Forbid it shame. Prepare the martial car,
Range the swift steeds, and pour the tide of war.
Nought can wipe off the stains of foul disgrace,
Save the extinction of the sullen race."
Thus spake the tyrant.-All approve the doom;
Gird on the sword, and shake the crested plume.
Revenge inspires the threat'ning band, but more
The keen remembrance of their golden store;
The gifts which they on Israel's sons bestow'd,
The raging breast with tenfold fury goad.
Fir'd by the prospect of unbounded prey,
The marshall'd troops advance in firm array,
Thron'd in his car, stern Pharaoh takes the lead:
E'en now anticipates the glorious deed;
E'en now, in fond imagination lost,
Returns triumphant o'er the routed host.
Through Israel's camp th' alarming tidings spread,
And overwhelm the soul with gloomy dread.
In ev'ry quarter blank despair appears;
Indignant murmurs next bespeak their fears.
"Is this the boasted freedom, this the prize,
For which from Egypt's tyrant Israel flies?
In front, the sea displays its foaming surge;
Behind, the sanguinary legions urge;
What arm can counteract the fatal blow?
Who rescue Israel from the vengeful foe?
Far better fate in bondage to remain,
And groan beneath oppression's galling chain,
Than perish thus, whelm'd in the closing flood,
Or dye the hostile plain with sacred blood.”—
And, dar'st thou thus, presumptuous Israel, vent The bold surmise of peevish discontent?
Dar'st thou, precipitate, that God disown,
Whose judgments aw'd the monarch's tott'ring throne?
That God, who oft, for Israel's tribes, display'd
Th' attesting wonders of supernal aid?
Think'st thou, that He, aw'd by the arm of man,
Will abrogate redemption's gracious plan?
Who rests beneath Jehovah's outstretched wings,
May brave the menace of opposing Kings.
And lo! the sable cloud, (auspicious sign!) Which kept the foot from error's devious line,
Moves to the rear; and, lest the foe pursue,
With thwarting gloom obscures the baffled view,
Yet still, amidst night's dark and low'ring shades,
The camp of Israel genial light pervades.
Moses towards the sea extends his rod,
The potent symbol of th' inspiring God.
From the bleak east all night the tempest beats:
Backward all night th' arrested sea retreats.
Soon as the morning dawn'd, 'midst the wide flood,
Whose waves, like crystal walls, collected stood,
Dry land appears. Onward the trepid host
Securely pass, and gain the adverse coast.
Nor linger Pharaoh's bands. Swift o'er the plain,
The chariots roll towards the sever'd main.
And now, anticipating full success,
Through the deep gulf th' imbattled legions press.
Once more the son of Amram suppliant bends,
And o'er the parted waves his rod extends.
By Heav'n impell'd, on Israel's vaunting foes,
With dreadful crash the confluent waters close.
Dread proof what judgments on the impious wait;
Not one escapes exterminating fate.
And it came to pass, that on the morrow Moses went into the tabernacle of witness: and, behold, the rod of Aaron for the house of Levi was budded, and brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded almonds.-NUMBERS XVii. 8.
That flushed the almond bough?
Brightest and first the young Spring to hail,
Still its red blossoms glow.
Was it the sunshine that woke its flowers
With a kindling look of love?
Oh, far and deep, and through hidden bowers
That smile of Heaven can rove.
No, from the breeze and the living light
Shut was the sapless rod;
But it felt in the stillness a secret might,
And thrilled to the breath of God.
E'en so may that breath, like the vernal air,
O'er our glad spirits move;
And all such things as are bright and fair,
Be the blossoms its track that prove!
THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA.
And the waters returned, and covered the chariots, and the horsemen, and all the host of Pharaoh that came into the Sea after them; there remained not so much as one of them. But the children of Israel walked upon dry land in the midst of the sea; and the waters were a wall unto them on their right hand, and on their left.-EXODUS xiv. 28, 29.
On earth's last margin throng the weeping train,
Their cloudy guide moves on.—And must we sweep the main? Mid the light spray the snorting camels stood,
Nor bathed a fetlock in the nauseous flood.
He comes, their leader comes,-the man of God
O'er the wide water lifts his mighty rod,
And onward treads: the circling waves retreat
In hoarse deep murmurs from his holy feet;
And the chafed surges, inly roaring, show
The hard wet sand, and coral hills below.
With limbs that falter, and with hearts that swell,
Down, down they pass a deep and slippery dell;
Round them arise in pristine chaos hurled,
The ancient rocks, the secrets of the world;
And flowers that blush beneath the ocean green,
And caves, the sea-calf's low-roofed haunts, are seen.
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