Israel in Egypt A Poem. By Edwin Atherstone |
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 | Israel in Egypt |  |
But, as beneath his foot the floor had sunk,
Down in a heap he dropped. No mortal might
Had stricken him; no stroke at all he felt;
Yet, like a broken thread, cast from the hand,
Strengthless utterly fell he. Still was sense
Unstunned;—hellish desire still burned within,
And deadened him to fear. Toward his lost prey
Eagerly staring—sight that maddened him more,—
A wondrous flame he saw, steady and mild,
Smooth gliding as a marsh-fire in dark night,
O'er some far distant vale; and, close behind,
The maiden, slowly following. One short glance
The thick air suffered him; then all was lost.
In agony of rage, he strove to rise;
Strove to cry out: voice, limbs, were paralyzed;
And, helpless, he lay struggling.
Down in a heap he dropped. No mortal might
Had stricken him; no stroke at all he felt;
Yet, like a broken thread, cast from the hand,
Strengthless utterly fell he. Still was sense
Unstunned;—hellish desire still burned within,
And deadened him to fear. Toward his lost prey
Eagerly staring—sight that maddened him more,—
A wondrous flame he saw, steady and mild,
Smooth gliding as a marsh-fire in dark night,
O'er some far distant vale; and, close behind,
The maiden, slowly following. One short glance
The thick air suffered him; then all was lost.
357
Strove to cry out: voice, limbs, were paralyzed;
And, helpless, he lay struggling.
But, meantime,
To the awe-smitten, yet nought-fearing maid,
An instant 'mid the blackness had appeared
A form of purest light; a countenance
Beauteous, yet sad; and, faint as softest sigh
Of evening, yet within her very soul
Deep felt, a voice had come, “Blest child of heaven,
Follow thou me.” And, without word, or thought
Of questioning,—all trustful as the babe
Its mother follows, even so followed she.
But now no more the countenance, or form,
Was visible; and the voice no more was heard.
A mild, clear light alone before her moved;
And, wondering, yet all trusting in her God,
Serenely she went on.
To the awe-smitten, yet nought-fearing maid,
An instant 'mid the blackness had appeared
A form of purest light; a countenance
Beauteous, yet sad; and, faint as softest sigh
Of evening, yet within her very soul
Deep felt, a voice had come, “Blest child of heaven,
Follow thou me.” And, without word, or thought
Of questioning,—all trustful as the babe
Its mother follows, even so followed she.
But now no more the countenance, or form,
Was visible; and the voice no more was heard.
A mild, clear light alone before her moved;
And, wondering, yet all trusting in her God,
Serenely she went on.
With steady foot,
Down the great stair she trod; each step made plain
By the descending beam: through passage, and hall,—
As in a torch-lit rift right through the heart
Of a black rock—walked on: but sounds of dread,
Above, below, to either hand, still heard:
Voices of men, and women, in great woe;
Some, crying out that they were smitten blind,
And help imploring; some, in ghastly tone
Of supernatural horror,—prayer and shriek
Commingled strangely,—calling on their gods:
Some, shouting, as if mad: some, groaning loud,
As in death-agony. Still glided on
The clear, mild light; still, trustful as a child,
Calmly the maiden followed.
Down the great stair she trod; each step made plain
By the descending beam: through passage, and hall,—
As in a torch-lit rift right through the heart
Of a black rock—walked on: but sounds of dread,
Above, below, to either hand, still heard:
Voices of men, and women, in great woe;
Some, crying out that they were smitten blind,
And help imploring; some, in ghastly tone
Of supernatural horror,—prayer and shriek
Commingled strangely,—calling on their gods:
Some, shouting, as if mad: some, groaning loud,
As in death-agony. Still glided on
The clear, mild light; still, trustful as a child,
Calmly the maiden followed.
Soon came sound
Of a great portal opening; and then stood
Before her, like a figure painted white
On ground of deepest black, her milk-white mule:
Visible solely that. Downward she looked,
But saw no earth: to right, and left, she looked;
But walls of solid darkness only saw:
Toward heaven she turned; but, close above her head,
As she might touch it, hung what seemed a roof,
Black and substantial as a grave-stone, cast
O'er the dead world! Awe-stricken, silent stood
The holy maiden; on that wondrous sight
Gazing, and pondering. Why distinct shone out,
The patient beast,—as if to invite her thence,
Though all path was invisible as the rocks
Leagues under ground,—she marvelled: yet, the face
So beautiful, though sad; the voice so sweet,
So soft and plaintive, she recalled, and thus:
“Surely an angel of the Lord hath come,
To lead me forth this peril. But, where, then,
Where is the holy Moses? Aught could I
Him aid, by here abiding? Truly no:
The Gracious Power which me protecteth,—him,
In its own way, will care for. Not for me
Fit is it, then, to question; but to do
Even as 'tis shown unto me.”
Of a great portal opening; and then stood
Before her, like a figure painted white
On ground of deepest black, her milk-white mule:
Visible solely that. Downward she looked,
But saw no earth: to right, and left, she looked;
But walls of solid darkness only saw:
358
As she might touch it, hung what seemed a roof,
Black and substantial as a grave-stone, cast
O'er the dead world! Awe-stricken, silent stood
The holy maiden; on that wondrous sight
Gazing, and pondering. Why distinct shone out,
The patient beast,—as if to invite her thence,
Though all path was invisible as the rocks
Leagues under ground,—she marvelled: yet, the face
So beautiful, though sad; the voice so sweet,
So soft and plaintive, she recalled, and thus:
“Surely an angel of the Lord hath come,
To lead me forth this peril. But, where, then,
Where is the holy Moses? Aught could I
Him aid, by here abiding? Truly no:
The Gracious Power which me protecteth,—him,
In its own way, will care for. Not for me
Fit is it, then, to question; but to do
Even as 'tis shown unto me.”
Thinking thus,
Lightly the maiden mounted; and at once
Again the pale flame moved; the gentle beast,
Unbidden, followed.
Lightly the maiden mounted; and at once
Again the pale flame moved; the gentle beast,
Unbidden, followed.
Meantime, far above
Earth's tomb-like blackness,—in the bright serene
Of heaven's pure air, the mighty angels hung,
To whom it had been given, from power of hell,
Or power of man, hell-taught, the maid to guard.
Through that thick darkness,—to all mortal sight
Impenetrable as the solid globe,—
So by power special gifted, their keen eyes,
As if in sunshine, all things clearly saw:
And, to his bright companion, Gabriel thus.
Earth's tomb-like blackness,—in the bright serene
Of heaven's pure air, the mighty angels hung,
To whom it had been given, from power of hell,
Or power of man, hell-taught, the maid to guard.
Through that thick darkness,—to all mortal sight
Impenetrable as the solid globe,—
So by power special gifted, their keen eyes,
As if in sunshine, all things clearly saw:
And, to his bright companion, Gabriel thus.
| Israel in Egypt | |