Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 63

THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT.

I.

Is this thy bravery, Man! is this thy pride!

Rebel to G.o.d, and slave to all beside!

Captived by everything! and only free To fly from thine own liberty!

All creatures, the Creator said, were thine; No creature but might since say, Man is mine!

In black Egyptian slavery we lie, And sweat and toil in the vain dru Of tyrant Sin, To which we trophies raise, and wear out all our breath In building up the monuments of death.

We, the choice race, to G.o.d and angels kin!

In vain the prophets and apostles come To call us home, Home to the promised Canaan above, Which does with nourishing milk and pleasant honey flow, And even i' th' 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.

II.

In vain we judgments feel, and wonders see; In vain did G.o.d to descend hither deign, He was his own Amba.s.sador in vain, Our Moses and our guide himself to be.

We will not let ourselves to go, And with worse hardened 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 G.o.d did convince The feeble arguments that human power could show; Think what plagues attend on thee, Who Moses' G.o.d dost now refuse more oft than Moses he.

III.

'If from some G.o.d you come,' said the proud king, With half a smile and half a frown, 'But what G.o.d 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 almighty wand: The almighty wand scarce touched the earth, When, with an undiscerned birth, The almighty 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 hissed aloud, With flaming eyes surveyed the trembling crowd, And, like a basilisk, almost looked the a.s.sembly dead: Swift fled the amazed king, the guards before him fled.

IV.

Jannes and Jambres stopped their flight, And with proud words allayed the affright.

'The G.o.d of slaves!' said they, 'how can he be More powerful than their master's deity?'

And down they cast their rods, And muttered secret sounds that charm the servile G.o.ds, The evil spirits their charms obey, And in a subtle cloud they s.n.a.t.c.h the rods away, And serpents in their place the airy jugglers lay: Serpents in Egypt's monstrous land Were ready still at hand, And all at the Old Serpent's first command: And they, too, gaped, and they, too, hissed, And they their threatening tails did twist; But straight on both the Hebrew serpent flew, Broke both their active backs, and both it slew, And both almost at once devoured; So much was overpowered By G.o.d's miraculous creation His servant Nature's slightly wrought and feeble generation.

V.

On the famed bank the prophets stood, Touched 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 drowned; The herbs and trees washed by the mortal tide About it blushed and died: The amazed crocodiles made haste to ground; From their vast trunks the dropping gore they spied, Thought it their own, and dreadfully aloud they cried: Nor all thy priests, nor thou, O King! couldst ever show From whence thy wandering Nile begins his course; Of this new Nile thou seest the sacred source, And as thy land that does o'erflow, Take heed lest this do so.

What plague more just could on thy waters fall?

The Hebrew infants' murder stains them all.

The kind, instructing punishment enjoy; Whom the red river cannot mend, the Red Sea shall destroy.

VI.

The river yet gave one instruction more, And from the rotting fish and unconcocted gore, Which was but water just before, A loathsome host was quickly made, That scaled the banks, and with loud noise did all the country invade; As Nilus when he quits his sacred bed, (But like a friend he visits all the land With welcome presents in his hand,) So did this living tide the fields o'erspread.

In vain the alarmed country tries To kill their noisome enemies, From the unexhausted source still new recruits arise: Nor does the earth these greedy troops suffice; The towns and houses they possess, The temples and the palaces, Nor Pharaoh nor his G.o.ds they fear, Both their importune croakings hear: Unsatiate yet they mount up higher, Where never sun-born frog durst to aspire, And in the silken beds their slimy members place, A luxury unknown before to all the watery race.

VII.

The water thus her wonders did produce, But both were to no use: As yet the sorcerer's mimic power served for excuse.

Try what the earth will do, said G.o.d, and lo!

They struck the earth a fertile blow, And all the dust did straight to stir begin, One would have thought some sudden wind had been, But, lo! 'twas nimble life was got within!

And all the little springs did move, And every dust did an armed vermin prove, Of an unknown and new-created kind, Such as the magic G.o.ds could neither make or find.

The wretched shameful foe allowed no rest Either to man or beast; Not Pharaoh from the unquiet plague could be, With all his change of raiments, free; The devils themselves confessed This was G.o.d's hand; and 'twas but just To punish thus man's pride, to punish dust with dust.

VIII.

Lo! the third element does his plagues prepare, And swarming clouds of insects fill the air; With sullen noise they take their flight, And march in bodies infinite; In vain 'tis day above, 'tis still beneath them night; Of harmful flies the nations numberless Composed this mighty army's s.p.a.cious boast; Of different manners, different languages, And different habits, too, they wore, And different arms they bore: And some, like Scythians, lived on blood, And some on green, and some on flowery food, And Accaron, the airy prince, led on this various host.

Houses secure not men; the populous ill Did all the houses fill: The country all around, Did with the cries of tortured cattle sound; About the fields enraged they flew, And wished the plague that was t' ensue.

IX.

From poisonous stars a mortal influence came, (The mingled malice of their flame,) A skilful angel did the ingredients take, And with just hands the sad composure make, And over all the land did the full viol shake.

Thirst, giddiness, faintness, and putrid heats, And pining pains, and shivering sweats, On all the cattle, all the beasts, did fall; With deformed death the country's covered all.

The labouring ox drops down before the plough; The crowned victims to the altar led Sink, and prevent the lifted blow: The generous horse from the full manger turns his head, Does his loved floods and pastures scorn, Hates the shrill trumpet and the horn, Nor can his lifeless nostril please With the once-ravishing smell of all his dappled mistresses; The starving sheep refuse to feed, They bleat their innocent souls out into air; The faithful dogs lie gasping by them there; The astonished shepherd weeps, and breaks his tuneful reed.

X.

Thus did the beasts for man's rebellion die; G.o.d did on man a gentler medicine try, And a disease for physic did apply.

Warm ashes from the furnace Moses took, The sorcerers did with wonder on him look, And smiled at the unaccustomed spell Which no Egyptian rituals tell.

He flings the pregnant ashes through the air, And speaks a mighty prayer, Both which the minist'ring winds around all Egypt bear; As gentle western blasts, with downy wings Hatching the tender springs, To the unborn buds with vital whispers say, Ye living buds, why do ye stay?

The pa.s.sionate buds break through the bark their way; So wheresoe'er this tainted wind but blew, Swelling pains and ulcers grew; It from the body called all sleeping poisons out, And to them added new; A noisome spring of sores as thick as leaves did sprout.

XI.

Heaven itself is angry next; Woe to man when Heaven is vexed; With sullen brow it frowned, And murmured first in an imperfect sound; Till Moses, lifting up his hand, Waves the expected signal of his wand, And all the full-charged clouds in ranged squadrons move, And fill the s.p.a.cious plains above; Through which the rolling thunder first does play, And opens wide the tempest's noisy way: And straight a stony shower Of monstrous hail does downward pour, Such as ne'er Winter yet brought forth, From all her stormy magazines of the north: It all the beasts and men abroad did slay, O'er the defaced corpse, like monuments, lay; The houses and strong-bodied trees it broke, Nor asked aid from the thunder's stroke: The thunder but for terror through it flew, The hail alone the work could do.

The dismal lightnings all around, Some flying through the air, some running on the ground, Some swimming o'er the waters' face, Filled with bright horror every place; One would have thought, their dreadful day to have seen, The very hail and rain itself had kindled been.

XII.

The infant corn, which yet did scarce appear, Escaped this general ma.s.sacre Of every thing that grew, And the well-stored Egyptian year Began to clothe her fields and trees anew; When, lo! a scorching wind from the burnt countries blew, And endless legions with it drew Of greedy locusts, who, where'er With sounding wings they flew, Left all the earth depopulate and bare, As if Winter itself had marched by there, Whate'er the sun and Nile Gave with large bounty to the thankful soil, The wretched pillagers bore away, And the whole Summer was their prey; Till Moses with a prayer, Breathed forth a violent western wind, Which all these living clouds did headlong bear (No stragglers left behind) Into the purple sea, and there bestow On the luxurious fish a feast they ne'er did know.

With untaught joy Pharaoh the news does hear, And little thinks their fate attends on him and his so near.

XIII.

What blindness and what darkness did there e'er Like this undocile king's appear?

Whate'er but that which now does represent And paint the crime out in the punishment?

From the deep baleful caves of h.e.l.l below, Where the old mother Night does grow, Substantial Night, that does disclaim Privation's empty name, Through secret conduits monstrous shapes arose, Such as the sun's whole force could not oppose; They with a solid cloud All heaven's eclipsed face did shroud; Seemed with large wings spread o'er the sea and earth, To brood up a new Chaos his deformed birth; And every lamp, and every fire, Did, at the dreadful sight, wink and expire, To the empyrean source all streams of light seemed to retire.

The living men were in their standing houses buried, But the long night no slumber knows, But the short death finds no repose.

Ten thousand terrors through the darkness fled, And ghosts complained, and spirits murmured, And fancy's multiplying sight Viewed all the scenes invisible of night.

XIV.

Of G.o.d's dreadful anger these Were but the first light skirmishes; The shock and b.l.o.o.d.y battle now begins, The plenteous harvest of full-ripened sins.

It was the time when the still moon Was mounted softly to her noon, And dewy sleep, which from Night's secret springs arose, Gently as Nile the land o'erflows; When, lo! from the high countries of refined day, The golden heaven without allay, Whose dross, in the creation purged away, Made up the sun's adulterate ray, Michael, the warlike prince, does downwards fly, Swift as the journeys of the sight, Swift as the race of light, And with his winged will cuts through the yielding sky.

He pa.s.sed through many a star, and as he pa.s.sed Shone (like a star in them) more brightly there Than they did in their sphere: On a tall pyramid's pointed head 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, Whilst thus unarmed I stand, Ere the keen sword of G.o.d fill my commanded hand; Suffer but yet thyself and thine to live.

Who would, alas! believe That it for man,' said he, 'So hard to be forgiven should be, And yet for G.o.d so easy to forgive!'

XV.

He spoke, and downwards flew, And o'er his shining form a well-cut cloud he threw, Made of the blackest fleece of night, And close-wrought to keep in the powerful light; Yet, wrought so fine, it hindered not his flight, But through the key-holes and the c.h.i.n.ks of doors, And through the narrowest walks of crooked pores, He pa.s.sed more swift and free Than in wide air the wanton swallows flee: He took a pointed pestilence in his hand, The spirits of thousand mortal poisons made The strongly-tempered blade, The sharpest sword that e'er was laid Up in the magazines of G.o.d to scourge a wicked land: Through Egypt's wicked land his march he took, And as he marched the sacred first-born struck Of every womb; none did he spare; None from the meanest beast to Cenchre's purple heir.

XVI.