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 chinks of doors, And through the narrowest walks of crooked pores, He passed 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 God 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. The swift approach of endless night Breaks ope the wounded sleepers' rolling eyes; They awake the rest with dying cries, And darkness doubles the affright. The mixed sounds of scattered deaths they hear, And lose their parted souls 'twixt grief and fear. Louder than all, the shrieking women's voice Pierces this chaos of confused noise; As brighter lightning cuts a way, Clear and distinguished through the day: With less complaints the Zoan temples sound When the adored heifer's drowned, And no true marked successor to be found: While health, and strength, and gladness does possess The festal Hebrew cottages; The bless'd destroyer comes not there, To interrupt the sacred cheer, That new begins their well-reformed year. Upon their doors he read and understood God's protection writ in blood; Well was he skilled i' th' character divine, And though he passed by it in haste, He bowed, and worshipped as he passed The mighty mystery through its humble sign. XVII. The sword strikes now too deep and near, Longer with its edge to play, No diligence or cost they spare To haste the Hebrews now away, Pharaoh himself chides their delay; So kind and bountiful is fear! But, oh! the bounty which to fear we owe, Is but like fire struck out of stone, So hardly got, and quickly gone, That it scarce outlives the blow. Sorrow and fear soon quit the tyrant's breast, Rage and revenge their place possess'd: With a vast host of chariots and of horse, And all his powerful kingdom's ready force, The travelling nation he pursues, Ten times o'ercome, he still the unequal war renews. Filled with proud hopes, 'At least,' said he, 'The Egyptian gods, from Syrian magic free, Will now revenge themselves and me; Behold what passless rocks on either hand, Like prison walls, about them stand! Whilst the sea bounds their flight before, And in our injured justice they must find A far worse stop than rocks and seas behind; Which shall with crimson gore New paint the water's name, and double dye the shore.' XVIII.