140 THE THIRTY-FOURTH CHAPTER The beasts so long have sacrificed been; Since men their birth-right forfeit still by sin; "Tis fit at last beasts their revenge should have, And sacrificed men their better brethren save. So will they fall, so will they flee, Such will the creatures' wild distraction be, When, at the final doom, Nature and Time shall both be slain, Shall struggle with Death's pangs in vain, And the whole world their funeral pile become. The wide-stretch'd scroll of heaven, which we Immortal as the Deity think, With all the beauteous characters that in it [writ With such deep sense by God's own hand were (Whose eloquence, though we understand not, we admire) Shall crackle, and the parts together shrink The' exhausted sun to the' moon no more shall lend; [stand And thou, O cursed land! Which wilt not see the precipice where thou dost (Though thou stand'st just upon the brink) Thou of this poison'd bowl the bitter dregs shalt Thy rivers and thy lakes shall so [drink. With human blood o'erflow, That they shall fetch the slaughter'd corpse away, As one who buys, surveys, a ground, Lest any nook or corner he should miss : He walks about the perishing nation, Ruin behind him stalks and empty Desolation. Then shall the market and the pleading-place Be choked with brambles and o'ergrown with grass: The serpents through thy streets shall roll, And in thy lower rooms the wolves shall howl, And thy gilt chambers lodge the raven and the owl, And all the wing'd ill-omens of the air, Though no new ills can be foreboded there: The lion then shall to the leopard say, "Brother leopard, come away; Behold a land which God has given us in prey! Behold a land from whence we see Mankind expulsed, his and our common enemy!" The brother leopard shakes himself, and does not stay. The glutted vultures shall expect in vain Shall find at last the business done, The evil spirits, that delight To dance and revel in the mask of night, The moon and stars, their sole spectators, shall affright: And, if of lost mankind Aught happen to be left behind; If any relics but remain ; [shall reign. They in the dens shall lurk, beasts in the palaces THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. Is this thy bravery, Man, is this thy pride? All creatures, the Creator said, were thine; In black Egyptian slavery we lie; And sweat and toil in the vile drudgery Of tyrant Sin; To which we trophies raise, and wear out all our breath In building up the monuments of Death; To call us home, Home to the promised Canaan above, Which does with nourishing milk and pleasant honey flow; And even i' the' way to which we should be fed With angels' tasteful bread : But we, alas! the flesh-pots love, We love the very leeks and sordid roots below. In vain we judgments feel, and wonders see! And with worse harden'd hearts do our own Pharaohs grow. Ah! lest at last we perish so, Think, stubborn Man, think of the' Egyptian Prince (Hard of belief and will, but not so hard as thou); Think with what dreadful proofs God did convince The feeble arguments that human power could Think what plagues attend on thee, [show; Who Moses' God dost now refuse, more oft than Moses he. "If from some god you come" (said the proud king With half a smile and half a frown; "But what god can to Egypt be unknown?) What sign, what powers, what credence, do you bring?" "Behold his seal! behold his hand!" Cries Moses, and casts down the' all-mighty wand. The' all-mighty wand scarce touch'd the earth, When, with an undiscerned birth, The' all-mighty wand a serpent grew, And his long half in painted folds behind him drew: Upwards his threatening tail he threw ; Upwards he cast his threatening head: He gaped and hiss'd aloud, With flaming eyes survey'd the trembling crowd, And, like a basilisk, almost look'd the' assembly dead; [fled. Swift fled the' amazed king, the guards before him Jannes and Jambres stopped their flight, And with proud words allay'd the' affright. "The God of slaves," said they, "how can he be More powerful than their masters' deity?" And down they cast their rods, [gods. And mutter'd secret sounds that charm the servile And in a subtle cloud they snatch the rods away, And all at the Old Serpent's first command. So much was over-power'd, By God's miraculous creation, His servant's, Nature's, slightly-wrought and feeble generation! On the famed bank the prophets stood, Touch'd with their rod, and wounded, all the flood; Flood now no more, but a long vein of putrid blood. The helpless fish were found In their strange current drown'd: The herbs and trees wash'd by the mortal tide The' amazed crocodiles made haste to ground; [cried. |