What, e'er, but that which now does represent And paint the crime out in the punishment? From the deep baleful caves of hell below, Where the old mother Night does grow― Substantial Night, that does disclaim Privation's empty name— Through secret conduits monstrous shapes arose, Such as the sun's whole force could not oppose: They with a solid cloud All heaven's eclipsed face did shroud; Seem'd, with large wings spread 'o'er the sea and earth, To brood up a new Chaos's deformed birth. Did at the dreadful sight wink and expire, The living men were in their standing houses buried; Of God's dreadful anger these Were but the first light skirmishes; The shock and bloody battle now begins, The plenteous harvest of full-ripen'd sins. It was the time when the still moon Was mounted softly to her noon, And dewy Sleep, which from Night's secret springs arose, Gently as Nile the land o'erflows. When, lo! from the high countries of refined day, The golden heaven without allay Whose dross, in the creation purged away, Made the sun's adulterate ray― up Michael, the warlike prince, does downwards fly, Swift as the journeys of the sight, Swift as the race of light, [sky. And with his winged will cuts through the yielding He pass'd through many a star, and, as he pass'd, Shone (like a star in them) more brightly there Than they did in their sphere. On a tall pyramid's pointed head he stopped at last, Down on the sinful land where he was sent, "Ah! yet," said he, " yet, stubborn king! repent, Whilst thus unarm'd I stand, Ere the keen sword of God fill [hand; my commanded Suffer but yet thyself, and thine, to live: Who would, alas! believe That it for man," said he, "So hard to be forgiven should be, And yet for God so easy to forgive!” He spoke, and downwards flew, And o'er his shining form a well-cut cloud he threw, Than in wide air the wanton swallows flee. The spirits of thousand mortal poisons made The sharpest sword that e'er was laid Up in the magazines of God to scourge a wicked land. Through Egypt's wicked land his march he took, And as he march'd the sacred first-born strook Of every womb; none did he spare, [heir. None, from the meanest beast to Cenchre's purple The swift approach of endless night Breaks ope the wounded sleepers' rolling eyes; They' awake the rest with dying cries, And darkness doubles the affright; The mixed sounds of scatter'd deaths they hear, And lose their parted souls 'twixt grief and fear, Louder than all the shrieking women's voice Pierces this chaos of confused noise; As brighter lightning cuts a way Clear and distinguish'd through the day. With less complaints the Zoan temples sound, When the adored heifer's drown'd, And no true mark'd successor to be found. Whilst health and strength, and gladness does The festal Hebrew cottages; [possess That new begins their well-reformed year: The sword strikes now too deep and near, No diligence or cost they spare To haste the Hebrews now away: But, oh! the bounty which to fear we owe, So hardly got, and quickly gone, That it scarce outlives the blow. Sorrow and fear soon quit the tyrant's breast; Ten times o'ercome, he still the' unequal war renews. Whilst the sea bounds their flight before! He spoke; and all his host Approved with shouts the' unhappy boast; A bidden wind bore his vain words away, And drown'd them in the neighbouring sea. No means to' escape the faithless travellers spy, And, with degenerous fear to die, Curse their new-gotten liberty. But the great Guide well knew he led them right, (Though just before no space was seen) To let the' admired triumph pass between. The wondering army saw on either hand The no-less-wondering waves like rocks of crystal stand: They march'd betwixt, and boldly trod And here and there all scatter'd in their The sun did with astonishment behold By his own priests the poets has been said, Led cheerfully by a bright captain, Flame, The prophet straight from the' Idumean strand The upper waves, that highest crowded lie, Straight their first right-hand files begin to move, Give the word "March" to all behind. The left-hand squadrons no less ready prove, |