ame
Our light, from God Himself the rushing fire?
For Moses erst, amid the prickly brier,
Saw God made manifest in lambent flame.

Ah, happy he! deemed worthy face to face
To see heaven's Lord within that sacred brake;
Bidden the sandals from his feet to take,
Nor with his shoon defile that holy place.

The mighty children of the chosen name,
Saved by the merits of their sires, and free
After long years of savage tyranny,
Through the drear desert followed still that flame.

Striking their camp beneath the silent night
Where'er they went, to lead their darkling way,
The cloud of glory lent its guiding ray
And shone more splendid than the noonday light.

But, mad with jealous fury, Egypt's king
Calls his great host to battle for their lord:
Swiftly the cohorts gather at his word,
And down the mail-clad lines the clarions ring.

Girding their trusty swords the warriors go
To fill the ranks; hoarse bugles rend the air;
These seize their massy javelins, these prepare
The death-winged arrow and the Cretan bow.

The footmen throng in close battalions pressed;
The chariots thunder; to the saddle spring
The riders of the Nile, as forth they fling
Egypt's proud banner with the serpent crest.

And now, forgetful of the bondage past,
Thy children, tortured by the desert heat,
Drag to the Red Sea's brink their weary feet,
And on its sandy margin rest at last.

See! with their forsworn king the savage foe
Draws nigh: the threatening squadrons nearer ride;
But ever onward urged the intrepid guide
And through the waves bade Israel fearless go.

Before that steadfast march the billows fall,
Then raise on either hand their crystal mass,
While through the sundered deep Thy people pass
And ocean guards them with a liquid wall.

But, mad with baffled rage, the dusky horde
Of Egypt, by their impious despot led,
Athirst the hated Hebrews' blood to shed
Pursued, all reckless of the o'er-arching flood.

Swift as the wind the royal squadrons ride,
But swifter yet the crystal barriers break,
The waves exultantly their bounds forsake
And roll together in a roaring tide.

'Mid steeds and chariots and drifting mail
The drowned lords of Egypt found a grave
With all their swart retainers 'neath the wave;
And in their haughty courts the mourners wail.

What tongue, O Chri