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, Involv'd with unconsuming flame, That made the moon around it night. 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 glittʼring 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, Yet on the Chief of Israel "Thou'rt come," at length the monarch spoke; Haughty and bigh the words outbroke: The forehead peel'd, the shoulder bare ?--- There came no word.-The thunder broke! Lay corpse-like, on the smould'ring ground. "Speak, King! the wrath is but begunStill dumb?-then Heaven, thy will be done." 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 : Let the life-blood be sprinkled on each door- | That his fearful eye had unwarn'd struck No blast of a pestilence sweeps the ground, And shrieks from the palace-chambers No tramp of unearthly feet, Nor rush as of harpy wing goes by, But the calm moon floats in the cloudless sky, 'Mid her wan light clear and sweet. Once only, shot like an arrowy ray, It pass'd so swift, the eye scarce could say Yet the beat of every heart was still, And the flesh crawl'd fearfully and chill, And back flow'd every vein. The courage of Israel's bravest quail'd At the view of that awful light, Though the blood of their offering avail'd To shield them from its might; They felt 'twas the Spirit of Death had past, That the brightness they saw, his cold glance had cast On Egypt's land that night : ROGERS. 'Tis midnight-'tis midnight o'er Egypt's dark sky, 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. 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, 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; His chosen flock, with shepherd-care to The sacred boon, by Providence supplied, 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; By day to cover, and by night to guide. And He, the great, the Eternal Lord, whose might 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; For this, when science taught his wondering He, present still, shall aid, shall safety yield; view To read the stars, and look all nature through; Tby lamp by night, by day thy guide and shield. |