But, when they were alone,--and now no more
By that subduing presence overawed,--
With free tongue giving loose to wrath and hate,
Rulers and priests 'gainst Moses 'gan to rail,
And 'gainst rebellious Israel,--born their slaves,
Yet daring to ask freedom. Head to head
They turned, low talking; yet with burning eyes,
Flushed faces, quivering lips, and hands hard clenched,
Like men who long to strike. But Sethos now,--
The first--born, and the favorite of the king,--
The throne--steps mounted; and, close standing, poured
Into his ear sharp words; inciting him
To wrath more bitter still against the man
Who so had dared affront him; and 'gainst all
The hateful race of Israel; heavier toil
And stripes advising, as best means to tame
Their hearts rebellious. A too willing ear
Sesostris lent: and, when he looked around,
And saw, on every countenance, hate, and scorn;
And the deep tones of smothered anger heard,
Then, with like wrath inflamed, thus spake he out.

''Princes, and priests, and rulers; ye have heard
The bold words of that Israelite; and seen
His looks audacious, in the very court
Of Egypt's monarch. Shall we, then, obey
The mandate of his God; of Israel's God;
A God unknown,--and let this people go
Into the wilderness,--thence never more,
Be sure, to come again; unless with chains
And whips forced back? or, rather, at their God
Shall we not laugh; and them with heavier stripes
And burthens vex? better to make them know
That now they are, and evermore shall be,
Slaves wholly.'' At that word, new stir awoke
Among the priests and rulers: many rose,
And stood before the king; and many tongues
Hotly exclaimed, that slaves from birth were they,
The factious Israelites; and all their toil
Justly to Egypt owed: and by the scourge,
If they held back, like asses should be driven
To labor harder yet. Then once again
Spake Pharaoh. ''With this contumacious brood,
Until this day too lenient have we been;
And pampered to rebellion: but, henceforth,
Wiser shall be our rule. They now are many;
And even but one hour's labor through each day,
Enforced upon them, difference vast will show
In sum of years. Our treasure--cities, roads,
Embankments, fosses,--whereon with slow hands
As yet these men have labored,--soon shall speed
Toward quicker ending: profit great to us;
To Israel greater toil: and, harder yet
To task them, henceforth shall they have no straw,
Wherewith to make them bricks: even let them go
And gather straw themselves. Yet, the same tale
Of bricks which heretofore they made, that same
Shall be laid on them: nought thereof at all
Shall be diminished: for they idle are;
And therefore do they cry, 'Let us go forth,
That we may sacrifice unto our God.'
Be, then, more heavy work laid on the men,
That therein may they labor; and vain words
Let them regard not. This sharp medicine
Quickly, methinks, will purge distempered thoughts,
By sloth begotten; and their rightful state
Teach these rebellious.'' Pausing there, arose
Sesostris from his throne; his sceptre waved,
In sign of council o'er; and left the hall.

With willing haste his orders were obeyed.
To all the taskmasters, at utmost speed
Was sent the word: and they, as eagerly,
Went out among the people; with loud voice
Proclaiming, ''Thus saith Pharaoh; 'from this time,
I will not give you straw: where ye can find,
Go ye, and get it; yet, of all your work,
Shall nought,--no, not one brick, diminished be.'''

When that the children of Israel heard, again
Thir cries went up to God. Throughout the land
Began they then to scatter all abroad,
Stubble to gather, where they found not straw;
Long hours consuming thus; yet, ere from toil
At night they might be freed, the self--same tale
Of bricks enforced to bring, as when the straw
Freely was given. Still Pharaoh's taskmasters
Hated them, saying; ''all your works fulfil,
Your daily tasks, as when the straw ye had.''
And those who underneath them held the rule,--
The officers of Israel, whom themselves
To overlook the laborers had set,--
The king's taskmasters scourged with rods, and said;
''Wherefore, ye idlers, have ye not fulfilled
Your tasks, enforcing from these men the tale
Of bricks as heretofore; both yesterday,
And this day also?'' When these things they found,
And that deliverance, promised, had not come;
Nay, that their burthens heavier far had grown;
Louder and louder railed the Israelites
'Gainst Moses, and 'gainst Aaron, and 'gainst all
The Elders, who had taught them that the hour
Of freedom was at hand. Then, when some days
Had passed, the officers of Israel went,
And stood before the king; and, weeping, said,
''Wherefore, O Pharaoh, with thy servants thus
Dost thou deal harshly! To the laborers now
No straw is given, wherewith the bricks to make;
Yet do thy taskmasters cry out to us,
'Make brick, make brick;' though well as we know they
That, lacking straw, brick never hath been made.
And yet, behold, thy servants do they beat;
Though not with us, O king, but all alone
With thine own people is the fault.'' To them
Sternly spake Pharaoh. ''Ye are idle all;
Idle ye are; and therefore do ye say,
'Let us go forth into the wilderness,
And sacrifice unto the Lord our God.'
Go therefore now, and work: no straw at all
Shall be given to you; yet the tale of bricks
Shall ye deliver.'' Then the officers,
Beheld that in an evil case they were,
After the king had said, 'ye shall not aught
Diminish of your bricks, your daily task.'
And, as from Pharaoh they were coming back,
They met the sons of Amram in the way;
And with dark brow, and wrathful tone, thus spake.
''The Lord upon you look, and judge! for ye
Have made us hateful in the monarch's eyes,
And in his servants' also; so to put
A sword into their hands to slay us all.''

Then was the heart of Moses sorrowful,
And his thoughts were troubled. Far beyond the walls,
Alone, on foot, and fasting from all food,
He went; in silence and in solitude
To meditate, and commune with his God.
All day, mid groves, or by the river's bank,
He wandered; slow his steps, his head depressed,
His heart weighed down with grieving; so that nought
Of beauty or of wonder, nigh his path,
Saw he, or heard at all: the Pelican,
Snow--white, the Bird of Paradise,
The huge, strange fish that wallowed in the deep;
The Eagle, and the Vulture, high in air,--
Unnoticed all, as sparrow on house--top,
By the lone city--muser. Till the sun
Far down heaven's arch had journeyed, wandered he,
Of hours regardless; all his thoughts on God,
And the deliverance promised; yet, as seemed,
In but worse bondage ending. Him thus sunk
In dark dejection, that fallen angel saw,--
Beelzebub, the never sleeping spy
O'er all his thoughts and motions,--and the time
Propitious deemed,--with prospect of high power,
Fame, wealth, and victory o'er all his foes,--
From that plain path, by God prescribed, to lure,
And draw him; and with pride of heart inflame,
That his own might and wisdom he should trust,
For the deliverance, promised, unachieved,--
Rather than doubtful word, by thing unseen
Spoken; or, haply, heard in dream alone;
A dream that he was waking. Instantly,
Legions of Spirits summoned he; and bade
That, in the guise of warriors, darkest hued
Of southern Ethiopia; large of limb;
Of stature more than man's; with sword, shield, spear,
Helmet, and armour shining like the sun;
And in the firm array of ordered hosts
Marching to battle,--with the speed of thought,
Should they appear. In a high car of war,
Splendid with gold and gems; a blazing crown
Upon his head; and with all regal pomp
Attended, he himself the foremost rode.
Behind him, twice a thousand brazen cars,
And warriors gleaming all in steel and gold;
Huge horses, fiery--eyed, in steel, and brass,
And gold resplendent; their high--lifted feet
Seeming to scorn the ground; their arching necks,
And wide--spread nostrils, speaking fierce contempt
Of all opposal,--lightened o'er the plain.
A hundred ranked abreast, the chariots went:
Behind them, clouds of horse that shook the ground
With their hot trampling; all in shining mail,
Rider and steed, attired: and, after them,
The infantry unnumbered: all at once
Planting the foot; together all at once
Uprising on the toe; that their bright helms
Of burnished brass, like sun--fired ripples seemed
On a great rushing river. Like the beat
Of battering rams against an earthen mound,
Their firm tread sounded. From a shady grove,
Wherein he long had wandered, going forth,--
This wondrous sight saw Moses; and drew back,
Gazing and marvelling; for at once he knew
That not of Egypt was this armament;
But, as it seemed, of those whom Egypt most
Of all her enemies dreaded; that fierce race
Of Ethiopia, whom himself in war
Had fronted, and with labor hard subdued;
With labor, blood, and life of Israel's sons
Had vanquished--thanked by heavier slavery.

Yet, of a war at hand, had no report
Gone forth: of such an inroad prompt, far less.
Till better he bethought him, instant doom
On the oppressors seemed he to behold:
The tyrant king, the tyrannous lords and priests,
Scattered like chaff before a mighty wind;
Or like to dead leaves trampled underfoot,
Before that multitude enormous, strong,
Gigantic--statured all, both man and steed:
A sight like which, surely had mortal eye
Never till then beheld. With course oblique,
Toward the grove tending, moved they; and the van
Not distant now; though, far as eye could trace
That fiery torrent rolling o'er the plain,
No rear was visible. But passage none,
Through the close wood, to any ordered force,
Could be at all; and, therefore, great his hope
That, in the shade abiding, by no eye
Should he be seen: so that, when all had passed,--
Course more direct pursuing than could they,--
With utmost speed of foot might he return;
And in the city, and in Pharaoh's court,
Sound out the alarm; though, as he felt, all vain
Egypt's full strength, before such foe to stand
One moment in the battle. But keen eye
Was on him: and when, hearing sound of feet,
He turned to look,--behold, toward him there came
A multitude that seemed to fill the wood;
Dark men, of size prodigious. Chance to escape,
By mortal means, impossible now--he stood,
Their coming to await; yet dread felt none;
Protected ever by the hand of God,
Knowing his life to be. ''What man art thou,
Here lurking like a spy upon our path?''
Said soon the voice of one who leader seemed.
''Thy name declare; thy purpose; and yet no,--
For see--the king approacheth: unto him
Be thy words spoken. Follow, and with speed.''

So saying, on he moved. To right and left,
And thronging close behind, were mighty forms,
Mail--clad, with spear in hand, and sword on thigh:
No choice was left; and with them Moses went.
Soon to the dazzling chariot in the van
Nigh drew they; and a mighty voice came forth
From him who rode therein. ''Whom bring ye here?
Stand all; and I will question him.'' His arm,
Thus speaking, lifted he; and, van to rear,
At once the host stood still. Then answered one;

''A spy, O king, he seemeth; for, close hid
In the thick grove we found him, with sharp eye
Noting thy coming on.'' ''And well might note,''
Said he, as king addressed; ''for sight like this,
Never, till now, saw man. Yet how a spy
He may be deemed, I know not. But fall back,
And let him stand alone; that, with free tongue,
He may reply to me.'' Obedient moved
The soldiery; and half a bow--shot off
Retired; then stood; and, looking toward the king,
Farther command awaited. ''Lift thine eyes,
And look me in the face while we discourse,''
Said he, named king. ''Ha! surely is that mien,
That eye, that lip, nay that whole countenance,
Familiar to me! Not as yesterday
Beheld; but as a face, in years far back,
Graven on memory, as a word on rock,
Never to be effaced.--Deny it not;
Thou art that Moses who my father foiled
So oft in battle; after half this land
He had o'errun, and conquered: but for thee,
Wholly had vanquished; and his rightful seat
On Egypt's throne had won. Now, answer not
With the false tongue, as one afraid; for, so,
Of guile convicted, surely shalt thou die:
But with true words, as one who scorns a lie,
Even death to 'scape, say, art thou he, or no.''

Then Moses on the sable countenance,
Fierce and commanding, fixed his placid eye,
And calmly answered, ''Whom thou say'st, I am;
Even that same Moses who from sword and spear
Of Ethiopia, rescued this fair land.''

''And thy reward, what was it?'' with the tone
Of mockery, said the phantom: ''For his crown
And kingdom saved, what treasures gave thy king?
What honors, rank, and power? For wife, no doubt,
His fairest daughter gave he, most beloved;
And, as her dower, a kingdom. Tell me all;
That I may know his worth; and at what price,
Service like thine he valued.'' A brief time
Moses stood silent; then in low tone said:
''No rank, power, honor, treasure, as reward,
Did I require: my sole petition this;
That Israel's bondage lighter should be made;
If freedom full not given them.'' ''Trifling boon,
For priceless good to ask;'' still mockingly
The giant shape replied; ''but freedom large,
Doubtless, to all he gave; and treasure much
Heaped on your people: for, remembered well
To this day is it 'mong our countrymen,
That by the men of Israel, foremost far,
Were done those deeds of valour, that amazed,
And overcame them. In this Egypt still
Sojourn they? for a rumour even then
Was rife, that toward some distant country, soon
Would all of Israel go: therein to dwell
For ever; and this Egypt see no more.''

With tone of sorrow, Moses thus replied.

''For service done, no gratitude he showed
To our long suffering people: treasure none
He sent among them; nor their galling bonds
Slackened at all. Me,--some loud praises given,
While their first joy was flush,--the priests and lords
Soon 'gan to hate; and into Pharaoh's heart
Their venom poured, that also he, at length,
Turned on me the cold face.'' ''But he is dead,
Resumed the questioner: ''this present king,
Sesostris, haply, hath with juster hand
Dealt toward thy people: five years hath he now
Filled Egypt's throne; and, if not all your bonds
He hath cast from you, yet, what most did gall,
Doubtless he hath struck off. In few words tell,
What acts of justice, or of gratitude,
Hath he shown toward them.'' ''I am ignorant
If such have been at all,'' with look deject,
Then Moses answered: ''for, these two score years,
In a far distant country have I dwelt;
And but at sunset of the tenth day past,
Hither returned: nor of one righteous act,
By Pharaoh to our suffering people done,
As yet have heard report. Nay, heavier bonds
Of late hath he cast on them; in his rage
That, by commandment from on high, I craved,
A three days' journey in the wilderness
That we might go; and offer sacrifice
Unto the Lord our God.'' ''A savage deed!''
Exclaimed the dark--hued phantom of a king;
''And vengeance on him, surely will ye all
Laugh out to see. But, absent so long years,
Of Ethiopia's wondrous history
Perchance thou nought hast heard; nor what the might
Unequalled she hath gained. No power of earth
Before her now could stand. In me behold
Her king, Amosis,--for my father sleeps
These ten years in his tomb: in these behold,--
Ay, Moses--for a warrior's ken is thine--
Look on them,--hence, to where in distance lost;
Though, then, not half their numbers dost thou see,--
What think'st thou of such arms, such steeds, such men?
Is there on earth a power 'gainst these to brave
One stroke in battle? And, for Egypt's king,
With all his legions, dare he a moment bide
The sun--flash of their swords?'' ''Beyond compare
With aught mine eyes have seen, is this great force,''
Moses made answer--''as by look adjudged;
By seeming strength, stature, and multitude.
But, not to strength, and multitude, alone,
Is victory alway given: the soldier's heart,
The leader's wisdom, yet a greater might
Than number, and the bulk of body give.
Small hosts, well led, and ardent for their cause,
Have vanquished greater far, when cold the heart,
Or dim the eye, of soldier, or of chief,--
As slender steel more strong than bulky wood,
Unsound within.'' A moment, thoughtful sat
The seeming king; then lightly from his car,
Leaped to the ground; close unto Moses went;
And, his gigantic form down bending, thus,
With voice suppressed, began. ''Thy words are gold,
To whoso' right receives them. Best of strength,
Truly, in bulk, or multitude, is not;
But in the spirit, and wisdom. Hear me now,
Moses--for thou, I know, of living men,
Far wisest, bravest art: and of this land,
By merit, king shouldst be, in place of him,
The ingrate, who therein had never ruled,--
Thine aid withheld. And, haply, even yet,--
Thy wonted wisdom failing not,--his throne
May have more fit possessor. Hearken now;
And weigh what thou shalt hear. Thou see'st this force
'Gainst Egypt come; giants of iron frame,
And numberless as sands on ocean's shore.
Nought, surely, can resist us. Yet, thy words
Thoughts have awaked, that else perchance had slept.
Not might alone, how vast soe'er the odds,
Gives alway victory. The eagle eye
Of a wise leader must the arm direct,
Or even oak--splitting blow may cleave but air.
Myself, though king, the warrior's wisdom lack:
And he, the unconquered captain of our host,
This morn by death was smitten. 'Mongst us all,
No chief like him,--wise, subtle; in the arts
Of war accomplished perfectly,--remains.
Not less, doubt can be none, beneath such force
Must all opposal sink, as, 'neath the foot
Of Mammoth,--even though blind, and running wild,--
Sheep, wolves, nay, lions, if before his path,
A moment they should stand. But, yet more sure
The sure to make,--keen eye, and wisdom deep,
Even Mammoth force should guide. Now, Moses, mark.
The wisdom, warlike lore, which so we need,
Thou, more than all men, hast. Bethink thee, then,
How with thy people is it; with thyself;
What ye have suffered; what ye suffer still;
What more will suffer, if that heartless king,
That cruel race of Egypt, still shall hold
The mastery o'er you. Pictured all these woes,--
Paint next in fancy, what ye shall become,
If thou, even thou alone, wilt aid to wrench
The sceptre from his grasp; and on them put
The chains which wrongfully on you they flung.
I ask not, of your people, that one man,
Thyself except, draw sword. Thy single deed,
Merit for all shall stand: and every man,
Woman, and child of Israel, shall be free:
Not from slave--bondage only, but, to go
Whereso' they will; to any land on earth,
Whither they would. Thy guidance in the war
Is all I ask. Of this unequalled host,
The captain would I name thee. To thy rule,
Sole, irresponsible, would all submit.
What recompense thou wouldst,--that boldly name,
And hold it granted. Yet, lest over--nice,
And diffident thou be, reward to ask,
Hear now my own resolve. The victory won,--
As won it must be, strength by wisdom led,--
To thee the throne of Egypt will I give;
Subject to Ethiopia though it be,
Yet great and wealthy still, most lands beyond;--
And, with it, treasure that might rear a pile
More vast than proudest pyramid,--thy name
To blazon through the world. Yet, more than this;
My youngest daughter, fairer than the flowers
Of spring--time, will I give thee for a wife;
Her dower, a mine of gold. This to refuse,
Thy wisdom, world--wide famed, would bring in doubt;
Thy justice also; for, toward Egypt, nought,
Save enmity, can thou, and Israel feel:
Nought owe, save retribution for foul wrongs;
Which not to punish, power within your hands,
Would be to approve, and make the guilt your own.
This also weighed must be: if obstinate
Thou stand; to Egypt, rather than to us,
Intent thine aid to give,--then, both thyself,
And all thy people, enemies must we hold;
And so deal with you. Honor, on one side,
Advantage great, and freedom to thy race;--
Unto thyself a kingdom, and a queen,
Glory and riches, and a deathless fame,--
All cry aloud upon thee to be ours:
While, on the other side, a hideous voice
Croaks strange allurements; memory of deep wrongs;
Of burthens, scourges, hunger, thirst, and toil,
And chains,--sole thanks as yet from Egypt, saved,
To Israel, his saviour; and sole thanks
For all the years to come. Th' alternate such,
Useless thy choice to ask; for wise thou art,
And canst not,--gold, and dirt, for preference placed
Within thy reach,--take filth, and gold refuse.
My captain therefore art thou; leader sole
Of this all--conquering host; and, few days hence,
King destined to become. My car then mount:
As king with king, beside me take thy seat;
And, while we move, thy counsels in mine ear
Freely pour forth.'' There paused the phantom shape;
And, as though answer he expected not,
And doubt impossible were,--with lordly grace,
His hand extending, as to honored guest
Yielding precedence,--toward the chariot signed.

But motionless and silent Moses stood;
His eyes upon the ground, as one whose thoughts
Sorely perplex him: and, when this he saw,--
His huge form rearing, with an aspect proud,
And tone of cold displeasure, the dark king
Him thus addressed. ''When monarchs deign to speak,
Quick ear they look for, and a nimble tongue
In answer. Have my words inaudible been,
That thou repliest not? for, in thing like this,
To hear, is to resolve; since doubt of choice
'Twixt offered life, or death,--conditions none,--
Not more impossible were, than thought of doubt
'Twixt opposites like these.... Or, with long care,
Is thy brain crazed; so that of best, or worst,
Thou know'st not which to chuse?...Be't how it may,
At least give answer: let me know thy thoughts,--
If thought thou hast at all.'' ''Amazement strange
O'ercometh me,'' with low and solemn voice,
At length said Moses. ''With the bodily eye,
A force I see, that Egypt's utmost strength
Surely might overwhelm, as a great rock
Would crush a molehill: with the bodily ear,
Thy words I note, telling that even so
The immediate purpose is; and my poor aid
Inviting to the work: yet, not more sure
That here I live, and breathe, and with thee speak,
Am I, or can be, than that never thus
Will Egypt fall, or Israel be set free:
For, from Heaven know I that, by other power,
God's purpose is it, Pharaoh to subdue;
From his long bondage to lead Israel forth.''

''Thou dreamëst, Moses; stir thy senses up,
And look about on firm realities,
Not on mist--visions,'' said the great, deep voice,
Each word as 'twere a blow,--''How knowëst thou,
How can'st thou know God's purpose! Hidden deep
As the earth's centre, evermore from man
Are all His counsels kept. The crazy brain
Alone, affects the invisible to see;
The blind alone, sees not the visible,
Glaring before the eye. Crazed, then, thou art,--
Thin air for substance taking; or, else, blind,--
The mountain piled before thee seeing not.
That which thou call'st God's purpose, is thy dream;
Less than a shadow; for a shadow still
From substance comes; yet, solid as the earth
Thou seem'st to hold it; while this mighty strength
Of men, and arms, and steeds, invincible,--
Real, substantial as the eternal rocks,--
Either thine eye beholds not, or thy sense
For shadow taketh; else impossible
The thought, that of its purpose it can fail.
Say,--art thou wakened now? Wilt thou the head
To this vast body be? or, traitor--like,
Aid Pharaoh to hold Israel yet his slave?
Answer at once: but yet the alternate weigh:
For, as toward us, or Egypt, thou shalt lean,
So, on thyself, and Israel, wilt thou bring
Good, or worse evil.'' ''Choice is left me none,''
Firmly him Moses answered. ''All I see,
All hear, with absolute voice declares aloud
Egypt must fall before thee. Yet, best vouch
Of eye, ear, reason, light as shadow is,
Poised 'gainst the words of God, which to my soul
On Horeb's mount were spoken. Nought of thee,
Amosis; nought of this o'erwhelming power
On Egypt coming, spake the awful Voice:
But of a hand Almighty, to be stretched
O'er Pharaoh and his people; smiting them
With plagues unheard of; till, with one acclaim,
They should cry out on Israel to depart.
Such, then, God's means, thy purpose is as nought;
In nought will end. Like dew--drops in the sun,
Thy myriads may exhale; like rain--drops, sink
In thirsty earth; like corn unreaped, may fall,
And rot upon the ground; like clouds may pass,
And fire and thunder pour on other lands,--
But, for this Pharaoh, this Egyptian race,
No power of thine may touch them. Useless, then,
My aid to give; nay, sinful, knowing well,
That in far other fashion am I called,
From bondage to take Israel. So assured,--
Power, kingdom, riches, beauty,--all combined
To lure me in thy service,--light would be
My heart to bend, as feather from dove's wing,
To bow the oak it drops on.'' ''Thou art fixed,
Plainly I see; but madness fixed,'' exclaimed
The phantom monarch; fury in his looks,
His voice like tempest: ''take, then, thine own course
But, mark the end. Dream not that, hence to go,
And, fool--like, to your tyrant Pharaoh take
News of our coming, I shall leave thee free.
Us if thou aid not, him thou shalt not aid;
Nor Israel; though ten thousand gods like thine
Had sworn the promise to thee. Yet, once more
I bid thee think. The moment now is come
When life, with honor, or immediate death,
Must be thy choice. I waste no longer words
On madness, or perverseness iron--hard.''

He signed; and instantly by Moses stood,
At either hand, a form of giant bulk,
Flame--visaged; high above each towering head,
A lightning sword uplifting. ''With thyself
Solely rests now thy fate,'' in tone severe
Pursued the phantom: ''Not on me the blame,
If here thou perish; for thyself it is
Thy doom shall speak. Worse folly than the fool's
Were ours if, having thee beneath the foot,
We let thee rise to foil us as before.
Not to another Pharaoh shalt thou lend
Thy cunning in war. To me, and to this host,
Thy service must thou swear; else, 'neath that sod
Whereon thou standest, surely is thy grave.
This all thy choice; nor power of earth, or heaven,
The doom can alter. Life, or instant death,
At once then chuse.'' ''Already have I chosen,''
Said Moses, on the wrathful countenance
Placidly looking; ''in the hand of God
Am I; and as He willeth, be my fate.
That which is right, I know; and that will do,
Come life, come death. To other work am I
By heaven commanded; therefore, thee to serve,
Were God to disobey. Thou threaten'st death;
God's bidding, life assures. I see the swords,
As thunderbolts; yet know that greater Power
Back holds them, as in chains. They cannot slay
Whom God wills live. Thy strength is impotence;
Thy purpose nought; thy conquest all a dream.
Though armed with might of all the world thou came,
To Pharaoh couldst thou not bring punishment;
To Israel freedom; for in other guise
These hath the Almighty ordered. Ere too late,
Toward Ethiopia, then, thy steps tread back:
Else, as a billow broken on a rock,
Will all thy force be shattered.'' ''Madman, fool!''
With voice that shook the ground, more terrible
Than roar of banded lions, in the night,
Roaming for prey, exclaimed the giant king:
''This sword, at least, no unseen power can chain!
Look on it! it is death! Unsay thy words,
Or perish.'' While he spake, from his great eyes,
As from two torches shaken, shot forth fire.
His sword, high lifted, quivered angrily,
As lightning on the edge of thunder cloud,
Straining to fly. The vast Titanic form
More huge became,--even as a burning hill,
To a mountain swollen: and, as from crater's mouth
Gush smoke and flame, so, from the demon--face,
Fury past aught by man conceivable,
Like torrents of fire burst forth. Yet, fearing nought,
In heaven's protection confident, his hands
The meek man lifted; and to Israel's God
A silent prayer began. The blazing sword
Higher went up, as if for feller swoop
Rising to strike; yet still, with calm, clear eye,
Praying, toward Heaven looked Moses; when, behold!
A Radiance as of present Deity,--
Splendor, 'gainst which noon--sunbeams, interposed,
Shadow had cast,--fell round him. Earth and sky
Were blotted out with brightness! As though life
Had been extinguished--senseless, to the earth,
By that great glory, as by lightning, struck,
Yet all unharmed, he dropped. A voice at length,
Not by the ear, but in the spirit heard,
Awaked him, saying: ''Faithful hast thou been,
And art of God approved.'' With holy joy,
The meaning felt he. Firm the worst to abide,
Uprising, he looked round; the Ethiop king,
Mad in his rage, expecting still to see;
Still resolute to defy: but lo! the plain,
So lately with that gorgeous pageant fired;
Chariots, and steeds, and men of giant mould,
Glorious in sunbright arms, and numberless,--
Void was, and silent as the wilderness!