| |
| HE stopped at last | |
| And a mild look of sacred pity cast | |
| Down on the sinful land where he was sent | |
| To inflict the tardy punishment. | |
| “Ah! yet,” said he, “Yet, stubborn king, repent, | 5 |
| Whilst thus armed I stand | |
| Ere the keen sword of God fill my commanded hand. | |
| Suffer but thyself and thine to live | |
| Who would alas! believe | |
| That it for man,” said he | 10 |
| “So hard to be forgiven should be, | |
| And yet for God so easy to forgive!” | |
| |
| Through Egypt’s wicked land his march he took, | |
| And as he marched, the sacred first-born strook | |
| Of every womb; none did he spare, | 15 |
| None, from the meanest beast to Pharaoh’s purple heir. | |
| Whilst health and strength and gladness doth possess | |
| The festal Hebrew cottages; | |
| The blest destroyer comes not there | |
| To interrupt the sacred cheer: | 20 |
| Upon their doors he read and understood. | |
| God’s protection writ in blood; | |
| Well was he skilled in the character divine, | |
| And though he passed by it in haste, | |
| He bowed and worshipped as he passed | 25 |
| The mighty mystery through its humble sign. | |
| |
