He spoke; and all his host Approved with shouts the unhappy boast; A bidden wind bore his vain words away, And drowned them in the neighbouring sea. No means to escape the faithless travellers spy, And with degenerous fear to die, Curse their new-gotten liberty: But the great Guide well knew he led them right, And saw a path hid yet from human sight: He strikes the raging waves; the waves on either side Unloose their close embraces, and divide, And backwards press, as in some solemn show The crowding people do, (Though just before no space was seen,) To let the admired triumph pass between. The wondering army saw, on either hand, The no less wondering waves like rocks of crystal stand. They marched betwixt, and boldly trod The secret paths of God: And here and there, all scattered in their way, The sea's old spoils and gaping fishes lay Deserted on the sandy plain: The sun did with astonishment behold The inmost chambers of the opened main, For whatsoe'er of old By his own priests, the poets, has been said, He never sunk till then into the Ocean's bed. XIX. Led cheerfully by a bright captain, Flame, To the other shore at morning-dawn they came, And saw behind the unguided foe March disorderly and slow: The prophet straight from the Idumean strand Shakes his imperious wand; The upper waves, that highest crowded lie, The beckoning wand espy; Straight their first right-hand files begin to move, And with a murmuring wind Give the word march to all behind; The left-hand squadrons no less ready prove, But with a joyful, louder noise, Answer their distant fellows' voice, And haste to meet them make, As several troops do all at once a common signal take. What tongue the amazement and the affright can tell, Which on the Chamian army fell, When on both sides they saw the roaring main Broke loose from his invisible chain? They saw the monstrous death and watery war Come rolling down loud ruin from afar; In vain some backward and some forwards fly With helpless haste, in vain they cry To their celestial beasts for aid; In vain their guilty king they upbraid, In vain on Moses he, and Moses' God, does call, With a repentance true too late: They're compassed round with a devouring fate That draws, like a strong net, the mighty sea upon them all. GEORGE WITHER