And stoled in white, those brazen wheels before, Osiris' ark his swarthy wizards bore, And still responsive to the trumpet's cry The priestly sistrum murmured-Victory ?— Why swell these shouts that rend the desert's gloom? Whom come ye forth to combat?-warriors, These flocks and herds-this faint and weary train Red from the scourge and recent from the chain? God of the poor, the poor and friendless save. Giver and Lord of freedom, help the slave.— North, south, and west the sandy whirlwinds fly, The circling horns of Egypt's chivalry. On earth's last margin throng the weeping train; Their cloudy guide moves on:- And must we swim the main ?' 'Mid the light spray their snorting camels stood― Nor bathed a fetlock in the nauseous flood He comes-their leader comes:-the man of God O'er the wide waters lifts his mighty rod, With limbs that falter, and with hearts that swell, seen. Down, safely down the narrow pass they tread : Yet not from Israel fled the friendly light, Blazed broad and fierce the brandished torch of God. Its meteor glare a tenfold lustre gave On the long mirror of the rosy wave : And tenfold darkness broods above their line. And range unconscious through the ocean's bed. Till midway now-that strange and fiery form Showed his dread visage lightening through the storm; With withering splendor blasted all their might, And broke their chariot- wheels, and marred their coursers' flight. Fly, Misraim, fly :'-The ravenous floods they see, And fiercer than the floods, the Deity. 'Fly, Misraim, fly:'-From Edom's coral strand O, welcome came the morn, where Israel stood In trustless wonder by the avenging flood: The house of bondage and the oppressor's scorn, Till kindling into warmer zeal, around And in fierce joy, no more by doubt suppressed, Poured on the winds of heaven her wild sweet harmony. Where now,' she sang, the tall Egyptian spear? On's sunlike shield, and Zoan's chariot, where? Above their ranks the whelming waters spread. Shout, Israel, for the Lord has triumphed.'And every pause between, as Miriam sang, From tribe to tribe the martial thunder rang, And loud and far their stormy chorus spread,Sbout, Israel, for the Lord hath triumphed.' 4 LINES SPOKEN IN THE THEATRE, OXFORD, ON LORD GRENVILLE'S INSTALLATION AS CHANCELLOR. YE viewless guardians of these sacred shades, Through the long toils of not ingrateful night,) |