Lays on the ground his staff, and stretching The lowly bush a tree became, forth His tremulous hand o'er Pharaoh's uncrown'd head, Prays that the Lord would bless him and his land. THE FINDING OF MOSES. Ex. ii. 5, 6. GRAHAME. SLOW glides the Nile: amid the margin flags, Closed in a bulrush ark, the babe is left,Left by a mother's hand. His sister waits A tree of beauty and of light, Thence came the eternal voice that spake By Moses, old, and slow of speech, These mighty miracles were shown, Jehovah's Messenger!-to teach That power belongs to God alone. Far off; and pale, 'tween hope and fear, THE SEVENTH PLAGUE OF EGYPT. beholds The royal maid, surrounded by her train, With meeting plumes; the rushy lid is oped, Ex. ix. 22. ANON. 'Twas morn-the rising splendour roll'd And parts the reeds unveiling as they bend, The slave, the gemm'd and glitt'ring pageA water-lily floating on the wave. MOSES IN THE DESERT. Ex. iii. MONTGOMERY. Go where a foot hath never trod, To Israel and to Egypt dead, But God the wandering exile found In his appointed time and place; The desert-sand grew holy ground, And Horeb's rock a throne of grace. Helm, turban, and tiara shone A dazzling ring round Pharaoh's throne. There came a man-the human tide He stoop'd not at the footstool stone, His only words-" Be just, O King!" Yet on the Chief of Israel Thou'rt come," at length the monarch spoke; Haughty and high the words outbroke: The forehead peel'd, the shoulder bare ?— There came no word.-The thunder broke! Echoed from earth a hollow roar, Till man and cattle, crush'd, congeal'd, Cover'd with death the boundless field. Still swell'd the plague, uprose the blast, And, lo! that first fierce triumph o'er, Swells Ocean on the shrinking shore; Still onward, onward, dark and wide, Engulphs the land the furious tide. Then bow'd thy spirit, stubborn king, Thou serpent, reft of fang and sting; Humbled before the prophet's knee, He groan'd "Be injured Israel free." To heaven the sage upraised the wand; THE LAST PLAGUE OF EGYPT. Ex. xii. 29, 30. ANON. WHEN life is forgot, and night hath power, And mortals feel no dread; When silence and slumber rule the hour, And dreams are round the head; God shall smite the first-born of Egypt's race, The destroyer shall enter each dwelling place Shall enter and choose his dead. "To your homes," said the leader of Israel's host, "And slaughter a sacrifice : And the young mother wakes and arouses from rest, And the young brother clings to the elder in fear, And the first-born of Egypt are dying around; 'Tis a sigh-'tis a moan-and then slumber more sound: They but wake from their sleep, and their spirits have fledThey but wake into life, to repose with the dead. Sublime the triumph swells! to him, the Lord, The God of battles,wakes each tuneful chord; Their full applause the deep-mouthed clarions raise, And virgin-timbrels join their softer praise : From thousand altars holy perfumes rise, And myriads bow in one vast sacrifice. When wealth and honour led his youth along, And pleasure wooed him with her siren song, For this, (as warmed he felt his spirit rise, And, kindling, claim its high-born destinies,) For this he spurned them all; and now his hand Sheds pale dismay on Egypt's trembling land, And waves exulting the triumphant rod, Are these the tribes, which late by Sihor's Israel's release, and symbol of his God! tide Wept o'er their wrongs, and loud for ven geance cried? 'Tis past-that hour of death! the eye of light bright: For them hope beamed not; but a night On its own towers looks down, in glory around: Yet did the day-spring rise; the captive's groan Went not unheeded to his Father's throne: He heard the mother's shriek, in anguish wild, Ask from the tyrant's hand her murdered child: He saw the toiling slave, the inhuman lord, And the keen tortures of the knotted cord. Thrice favoured race! Jehovah's parent eye Marked every tear, and numbered every sigh; And though full many a dreary age had shed Slavery's worst woes upon the unshelter'd head, Though dark and long the night, yet morn could bring Joy in its eye, and healing on its wing. And lo! he comes, the Seer whom Greece would claim Her guardian-power by many a fabled name; Meekest of men, by God's own voice decreed, His chosen flock, with shepherd-care to lead; For this, was mercy's arm out-stretch'd to save His infant promise from an early grave, When Nile's tame billow kissed his rushy bed, And the green snake played harmless o'er his head; For this, when science taught his wondering view To read the stars, and look all nature through; stream Of mingled man and herd, from Goshen's land Pours frequent forth,a more than locust-band. They go; but all is silent as the tomb ! For look! where, columned high, in massy gloom, Deep as the darkness of the coming storm, Moves slow before the host a giant-form; And see, as all the twilight landscape fades, A pale and dubious light the mass pervades, And, as the night rolls on, the wondrous frame Pours a broad glare, and brightens into flame. 'Tis not the beacon-fire, which wakes from far The wandering sons of rapine and of war ; Pledge of the present God, by mercy given; All being owns, "who spake and there was light," Who gave the sun the tower of day to keep, And the pale moon to watch o'er nature's sleep; He, present still, shall aid, shall safety yield; Tby lamp by night, by day thy guide and sh e |