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Seatonian Poems

By the Rev. J. M. Neale
  

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
  
  
  
  
  

V.

Day comes again: but such a morn
From Eastern clouds was never born,
As when, from Afric's torrid sand,
The desert-swarms, a monster band,
Came pouring o'er that cursed land,
That miserable race:
With eyes that sparkled living fire,
Monsters unknown and portents dire,
Came hurrying on apace.
Such visions, in the dead of night,
Crowd o'er the sick man's aching sight,
And, as he longs for morning light,
In feverish dreams have place.

134

O God, Whom all things serve alike,
How many ways hast Thou to strike!
How many means to overthrow
And grind to dust Thy strongest foe!
 

Reference is made to the tradition of the Jews, corroborated by the Book of Wisdom (xvi. 3), that the swarms of Exod. viii. 20 were swarms of beasts, not of flies.