University of Virginia Library

When, with a mighty hand and outstretched arm,
And many signs and wonders in the land,
The Lord led forth his people, by the sea,
From their hard bondage 'neath a ruthless King,
Terror was on the Nations and deep fear
And quaking apprehension; and stern hearts
Trembled, and fearless spirits quailed in awe,
And wild, quick glancing eyes gleamed with dread
Of yet another judgment, and cold dews
Quivered on breathless lips, and strong men moved
With starting pace, as if the hand of death
Grasped their pale hearts and wrung their spirits out,
While with cold shuddering and silent haste,
And looks unearthly cast on every side,
They craved the Hebrews' blessing and the ruth
Of Israel's God and hurried them away.
Fresh in their memories lived the horrors shed
By unseen vengeance and resistless o'er
Their desolated realm; the fire and hail
And rending thunder mingled to destroy;
The mighty Nile and every lesser stream,
And woodland fountain and cool, pleasant rill
Purpled with unshed blood and filled with death;
The all-devouring locusts and the plagues,
Noisome and deadly, of most loathsome things;
Darkness that could be felt o'er all the land,
When human ties were sundered and dear friends,
And lovers met unknowing in the gloom,
And battled, famished wretches! for their food;
Last and most awful, the death-angel's wrath,
And lightning sword that slew unstained with blood,
And midnight rushing wings engirt with flame;
These visitations were not all in vain,
And hastily they drave the Hebrews forth.

There was a fearful wailing and wild cry
Through the proud kingdom of the pyramids;
And eyes, unwont to weep, o'erflowed with tears,
And manly bosoms heaved, and prayers arose
From many a faithless, mocking Infidel,
Who dwelt in careless strength and knew no God,
Save the divinities his fortune made;
For in the palace, at the midnight hour,
And in the cottage and the pleasant field,
And in the dungeon and the banquet-hall,
The firstborn shrieked and died. The haughty prince
Fell from his purple grandeur in the dust.
The warrior chief, discoursing battle schemes,
Or dreaming of proud victories to come,
Blenched from the unseen foe—his dauntless heart
Quivering with life's last pulses, and his brain
Rolling in dizzy horror; and his arms
Clanked as he fell in the still house of peace
Far from the field of glory, unobserved,
His might unproved, his towering fame eclipsed;
With a low sullen moan, his trumpet voice
Sank as he challenged death and died alone.
The statesman's wisdom, that o'ershadowed earth,
And measured out the fate of thousand climes,
Availed not the great counsellor of kings.
The man of knowledge felt he nothing knew
When death revealed eternity to him.
The poet's burning heart grew cold, his eye
Dim mid the glowing visions of his brain,
And gloom came o'er his radiating soul.
The hoar magician perished mid his charms
And potent spells e'en while he watched the stars
And muttered oracles of future doom,
Or strove by strange enchantments to outvie
His awful power who laid the sorcerer low.
The affianced bride was wedded to the grave.
The bridegroom clasped the cold worm to his heart.
The priest fell down beside his kindled shrine,
The holy fire went out, and Egypt's God,
Osiris cried unto his father Jove
In vain amid the temple's hollow gloom.
The merchant's eye did wander from his store,
His hand forgot its cunning, and he fell
Among his hoarded treasures, grasping still
The gold his quivering lips did count in death.
The maiden perished in her beauty's pride,
Adorning nature for her last cold bed.
The shepherd waked not with his bleating fold,
And, at the morn, his wondering flock came near
In wedged array, and snuffed his body o'er,
And bounded off—then came again and gazed
And bleated vainly. In the dungeon slept
The sleepless captive, now in chains no more.
The babe grew cold upon its mother's breast.
The wife awoke not to her true love's kiss.
The husband's arm lay stiff around the neck
Of her who slumbered in his lifeless bosom.
The aged father was left desolate.
And Egypt mourned through all her crowded coasts
Her pride, her beauty and her glory—gone.

In high deliverance the Hebrews passed,
And thronging multitudes of men bowed down
With labour and sore travail and base stripes,
And women, pale with sickness, grief and want,
And youth whose brows revealed not what belongs
To life's gay morn, bright thoughts and sunny smiles,
And babes who drank in sadness from the breast
That gave them being—mingled with their flocks
And herds—went through the wasted land and heard
The sound of mourning and of terror borne
On every breeze that wailed o'er barren fields.
While, as they passed, with hum of multitudes,
The skeletons of ancient kings did rise,
As if they heard the angel swooping by
Again for slaughter, in their sepulchres,
The Memphian pyramids, and bony hands,
Powerless and scepterless, stretched forth and grasped
The darkness when they strove in vain to save
Their people from the vengeance of the Lord;
And a deep groan, long, loud and awful, rose
From base to battlement, when they sank down,
The victims of the worm who, fearless, fed,
And rested on his couch of princely dust.
Famine and death were round them, but before
The pillar of Jehovah was their guide,
His angels their defence, his word their trust;
And o'er the desert sands, where the hot sun
Burned like a sevenfold furnace, and no shade,
No shrub was seen, nor scarce a living thing,
They kept upon their heaven appointed way,
Glad of the high rock's shelter, or night tents,
To shield them from the dews and blasts of death.
Thus forth from their long bondage passed the sons
Of Egypt's great forgotten Governor,
The prophet prince of Memphis, who beheld
Ruin afar and stored a nation's lives—
The outcast children of the Man of Faith,
Seeking their loved and pleasant heritage
Far in their own bright, fruitful Palestine.
And 'twas a solemn sight, that countless throng,
That chosen people, wandering with their tents
O'er the vast desert, where no man was seen,
Save the lone Ishmaelite, on his barbed steed,
Hurrying away on predatory quest.
In silent haste they fled, and save this foe
Nothing was seen but the tall ostrich, made
Companionless, which reared its head aloft
At the strange sound of footsteps, and then stalked
Proudly away: or serpent yet, perchance,
That basked in volumed folds upon the waste,
And moved not when the peaceful wanderers passed.

Loaded with gems and jewels and fine gold,
And purple robes and priceless ornaments,
The mighty multitude encamped between
The desert and the sea, when sank the sun
In oriental glory. Their white tents
Glittered along the wide and sounding shore,
Where the blue waves threw music like the strains
Far distant winds waft o'er the mountain's brow,
And thousand voices rose in grateful praise
For unforeseen deliverance, and songs
Of glad thanksgiving soared into the skies;
And mothers kissed their babes, and blessed their lot,
Safe from the ruthless spoiler, and they gazed
Upon their wise deliverer and turned
Again to the caress; and lovers held
Communion sweet and secret, far from sound
Of bondage and oppression; and all looked
To heaven and poured their raptured spirits forth.
They stood where none would ever stand again;
And well they marked the desert's glorious eve—
The solitary majesty of earth.
The dark-blue heaven—the ocean of rich light,
The unbounded wilderness and crimson sea,
And their long line of tents, that seemed amid
This shorelessness of grandeur like white foam
Upon the billowy bosom of the deep.
Far on the verge of vision, dimly seen,
The lonely horseman glimmered o'er the waste,
And his wild fearlessness lent wizard charms
To the o'erpowering glory of the scene.

But night came down upon the desert; fires
Threw their red light upon the darkening wave,
And o'er the yellow sands; and Israel's host
Stood waiting for the message of the Lord.
Before them burned the fire-cloud pillar—round
Silence lay listening, and the Man of God,
The prince of Egypt, stood retired and held
Counsel with angels in this awful hour.

“Dost thou remember,” said an ancient man,
Communing with his fellow, “on that night
When the Death-Angel passed, how the heart hung
In silent breathlessness and cold hands grasped
In speechless terror, and wild glaring eyes
Alone revealed the agony of fear?
Dost thou remember what an awful light
Flashed round us when he turned his seraph eye,
And saw the sign of our redemption—blood
Of spotless lamb upon our lintels cast,
And the front pillars of our dwellings? now
Methinks 'twas very terrible! Through all
Our chosen habitations not a sound
Of life was heard while flew in dazzling light
The dread Destroyer, and his mighty wings
Rushed like a samiel hurricane; none dared
Whisper his thought or move from out his place,
While every eye spake horror and flashed forth
The drowning fulness of the o'erfraught heart,
Till rose o'er Memphis the loud cry of death,
The wail of desolation and despair;
Then a deep breath—a quick,convulsive start
Told that our dread deliverance was achieved.”
The words yet hung upon the trembling lips
Of the grey father, patriarch of his race,
When on the midnight air distinctly came
The roll of chariots and the tramp of steeds,
The clang of armour and far trumpet swells,
And hurrying voices echoed o'er the Waste,
And shouts exultant pealed, and onward rushed
The tyrant monarch and his harnessed host—
The unfathomed sea before, the foe behind,
The unsheltering desert round; the sword or wave
Despair's alternative. Then terror filled
The quaking bosom, and the heart forgot
Its hurried pulse, and with loud wailing cries
The host defenceless gazed upon their foes
And the dark billows, as the lion glares,
When bayed upon a pathless precipice.
Encompassed round by every dreadful foe,
Who could deliver? Where the mighty arm
To make a path way of the booming flood,
Or overthrow the Egyptian in his strength
From the cloud-banner came a mighty arm,
Brandishing a sword of fire, and on it passed
Between the Hebrew and Egyptian hosts,
Shedding a noontide radiance before,
Behind, a midnight darkness to be felt;
And through the sky a voice, not of the earth,
Cried till all heaven rolled back the dread command,
“Be still, and see Salvation from the Lord!”
The fiery sword waved o'er the Egyptians thrice,
And many thunders through the depths of heaven
Uttered their voices, and a cloud of flame
Hung midway in the darkened air, and throned
Thereon an awful Being, robed in clouds,
Through whose dun folds his radiant eye alone
Gleamed inconceivable, sate looking down,
Most awfully serene; and all beheld,
But dared not lift their eyes to view the Form.
Then o'er the waters of the roaring sea,
The Shepherd Prince waved thrice his pastoral rod.
Mid the unbroken silence of the host,
With hollow voices, the mysterious deeps
Replied to the Almighty hest and rose
High as the tower of Belus, anarch fane!
Or columned Parthenon of later days,
Obedient to the Word none can gainsay.
Thrown from the burning pillar, purple fire
Flashed like continual lightnings all along
The radiant crystal walls and downward gleamed
A wondrous glory; through the up-piled waves
The mighty monarch of the unfathomed Deep,
Leviathan looked forth, engirdled by
Each lesser habitant; the dolphin, clothed
With beauty, gambolled in the shining waves,
And all seemed wondering that their secret lairs
Should be the pathway of strange beings, formed
In other shape, and their blue shadowy cells
Blaze with wild, awful light ne'er seen before.
The lion and wild elephant beheld
The heavenward burning and the high red walls,
And heard the breaking of the sea, and left
Their distant lairs and came, with trembling steps,
And gazed upon the scene; then, roaring, fled
Again in terror to their forest home.

There was a revel in the Egyptian camp
Amid these scenes; and golden goblets, brimmed
With wine, passed gaily round, and voices rose
In martial merriment; proud Pharaoh scoffed
At his past terrors and his chiefs replied
With adulation to their monarch's mirth;
And, in quaint jest and bitter mockery,
He portioned out the Hebrews' future fate,
With true regardance of their weal, and all
Laughed and cried loud—“For ever live, O King!”
“Trust not in armour!” said a voice that shook
Earth to its centre; “put thy harness off
As those didst gird it on!”—Each chief stood mute,
And Pharaoh's brow grew numb and cold as death—
And silence slumbered in the banquet tent.

With hurried pace and many a backward glance,
The chosen nation enter on their path
Through the deep gulf; the man of God before,
The fire-cloud and wild flashing sword behind.
In silent awe they pass, and little babes
Lift up their wondering eyes and gaze enrapt
On the high blazing battlements, and look
Into their mothers' faces searchingly
But speak no word of question. Flocks and herds
Shrink from the parted waters and move on
Like things affrighted—but they make no sound.
But, suddenly, a trumpet-blast wails o'er
The quivering surge, and rushing chariot wheels
And clashing armour and loud neighing steeds
Roll on behind the hurrying multitude.
Proud Pharaoh led the van and high his voice
Pealed mid the towering mountain waves—“Pursue
“Spare not!” and all his warriors echoed back
Their dreadful monarch's warcry. Yet the Man,
Moses turned not, nor seemed to hear, but on
He led the chosen race, his step unchanged,
His raised prophetic eye unaltered now,
His bosom calm, his spirit unappalled.
“Fear not, my brethren! ye will see no more
Your fierce pursuers,” ever he replied
To panic-stricken men and women wild
With apprehension. So he kept his way,
Till every eye beheld the shadowy shore,
So long desired, and every heart o'erflowed
With rapture at the view. Then with calm voice
The great Lawgiver spake—“Look back! Behold!”
All turned and gazed; the Egyptian host rushed on
With shouts and noise of trumpets, but from out
The blazing walls ten thousand dark forms sprung,
Dreadful as hell, and grasped the chargers' reins
And leapt within the chariots and drave through
The crystal battlement, while none had power
O'er shadows, all resistless in their strength.
Then from the fire-cloud rolled a voice that filled
Immensity and shook the pillar'd skies—
“Dare not Omnipotence!” Then waved again
The Shepherd's rod and down, with awful rush,
As of a million blended thunders, fell
The assembled waters, wall'd from earth to heaven;
And there the Egyptians stood and saw the world
Of flashing billows on their proud array
Descending; and loud groans and cries and yells
Arose, and bloodshot eyes and bursting hearts
And livid faces vainly told their woe.
They leapt from their bright chariots and proud steeds
And fled in terror—and the waters crashed,
Thundering and foaming o'er their buried pride.
The roar, the foam, the glare awhile prevailed,
Then from the Deep strong arms up rose and spread
Their hands for aid, and battle chargers reared
Their crested heads and struggled with the flood.
But vain their mighty agony; they sank,
They died; and o'er the darkly closing waves
Israel's glad shout pealed to the highest heaven.