 | Poems |  |
THE DEATH OF THE FIRST-BORN.
Is on the land—Woe, woe for those who move
So lightly thro their halls of revelry,
The loving, and the loved!—a foe is near
Whose unseen touch will wither each young cheek,
Dim those bright glances, hush these silvery tones,
And change the exulting voice of merriment
Into funereal wailing.”
MS Poem.
A glare as from unnumber'd torches hung
Over the splendid city. Darkness fled
Affrighted, from his ebon throne, and veil'd
His face from light, and all the queenly stars
Grew dim and pale upon night's fever'd brow.
On every wandering wind—at times the low
And reedy murmur of the Egyptian flute,
And then the viol's breathings, and the harp's
Wild, spirit tones, while ever and anon,
Above them all arose the symbol's clang,
And the far-echoing trumpet's stirring peal.
Proud city of the Nile!—the mighty one,
Terrible Isis, at whose awful frown
The trembling world grows pale, hath deign'd to raise
The mystic veil, and by her priestess' lips,
Promise deliverance to her slaves, from all
The woes denounc'd by Israel's prophet chief.
Thou city of the Pharaohs.—Countless lamps
Where many a stately form, and jewelled brow,
Flash'd back a brighter lustre. On a throne,
Rich with the wealth of many an orient land,
Sat Egypt's kingly ruler; triumph glow'd
Upon his dusky features, and his eye
Shot forth its wonted glance of tameless pride;
But o'er his loud and riotous mirth at times
A change would pass, as if of sudden fear;
A quick convulsive thrill, that seem'd to throw
O'er his dark cheek an ashy hue, which told
A spirit not his own, held mastery there.
Pass'd lightly round the board, and many a warm
And passionate glance shot forth from those dark eyes
Which, by the light of day, scarce dared to peer
Through their soft lashes; whisper'd words were there,
And amorous breathings;—hands were link'd in hands,
And young hearts beat responsive. Love crept in,
In many a goodly temple, but the time
Of parting came, and one by one the throng
Of glittering revellers left that stately hall;
The lamps grew faint and fainter, silence fell,
And dimly brooded o'er its regal pomp,
And soon the silvery moonbeams stealing in,
Gleam'd on its porphyry columns.
And dreamless slumber o'er the land held sway;
No human sound disturb'd the solemn calm,
But ever and anon was heard a low,
And ominous rustling as of spirit wings,
That hover'd o'er the city. They who watch'd
That night, caught glimpses of an awful form,
With strange, unearthly aspect, that look'd down
As if in wrath on the rebellious land.
Again, again 'tis heard more loud and shrill,
While all around a thousand echoes rise,
A thousand shrieks of terror and dismay.
And there are sounds of tumult—thro' the streets
Rush with wing'd feet a fear-struck multitude—
And torches flame again, and throw their light
On pale and ghastly faces, and a cry,
A wild, fierce cry, bursts from each quivering lip,
To Isis, the omnipotent, to save
From the avenging wrath of Israel's God.
From every dwelling in the stricken land,
One universal wail! Pale mothers bent
The parted spirit back, and watch'd in vain,
To see the glazed eye brighten, and the rose
Bloom on the dull, cold, marble cheek again.
Great city of the Nile!—thy hope is flown.
Prostrate upon the earth, beside the couch
Of him who was his pride, lay Egypt's King!
They gather'd round him there, and strove to stem
With ready words, the current of his grief;
But he would know no comfort, and he turn'd
And gazed upon his blighted flower—and wept!
There was no triumph now, no haughty scorn,
No firm reliance on his country's gods—
Beside him lay his dead, and he could hear
His people's groans—he could not choose but weep,
For well he knew he was their murderer!
The young, the gentle, and the beautiful,
Youth's golden promise, manhood's ripen'd fruit,
Are wither'd by the icy touch of death!
A pall is on the land!—its light is quench'd—
The nation's strength is bow'd—its spirit crush'd.
Egypt is desolate!
I think I am not losing sight of probability, in preluding the calamity by a scene of festivity and triumph. I have fictitiously accounted for it in the third section of the poem, but if the character of Pharaoh be considered, its extreme obduracy, and the supernatural manner in which it was acted upon by God, fiction will perhaps seem unnecessary.
This may be an anachronism. I have thought it probable, however that the harp, cymbal, and trumpet, instruments in frequent use among the Jews, might have been introduced by them into Egypt.
As the people went about the streets lamenting loudly when a death took place in their houses, some conception may be formed of the awful outcry which arose when every family in the land had a dear and lost member to lament. Besides this, it must be remembered that the first-born among their sacred animals died also, which must greatly have added to the intensity of their consternation. We are assured by Diodorus that when a sacred animal died in a house, the affliction was greater, and the lamentation louder, than at the death of a child. Well then may the cry have been such as had never before been heard in Egypt, and never would be again.
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