And lo the waters of the deep Swell in one enormous heap, Collected at thy nostrils breath :
The bosom of the abyss reveal'd, Wall'd with huge chrystal waves, congeal'd, Yawns hideous as the gate of death.
"Swift steeds of Egypt, speed your course, "And swift, ye scythed chariots, roll; "Not Ocean's bed impedes our force, "Red vengeance soon shall glut our soul; "Soon shall the sabre sharp embrue "Its glimmering edge in gory dew."Impatient cried the exulting foe;
When, ponderous as a mass of lead,
They sink, and sudden o'er their head
The bursting waves impetuous flow.
But THOU, in whose sublime abode
Resistless might and mercy dwell,
Our voices, high o'er every God,
To thee, the lofty lay shall swell.
Outstretch'd, we saw thy red right-hand,
The earth her solid jaws expand;
Down, down the gulph, alive, they sink,
While we, within the incumbent main,
Beheld the tumbling floods, in vain
Storm on our narrow pathway's brink.
But far as Fame's shrill notes resound,
With dire dismay the nations hear;
Old Edom's sons, in war renown'd,
And Moab's warriors melt with fear;
The petrifying tale disarms.
The might of Canaan's countless swarms;
Appalled their heroes sink supine ;
No mailed bands with thrilling cry
The bannered Hebrew host defy,
That moves to conquer Palestine.
Nor burning sands our course invade,
Where Nature's glowing embers lie;
But led by THEE, we safely tread
Beneath the furnace of the sky.
To fields where fertile olives twine
Their branches with the clustering vine,
Soon shalt THOU Jacob's armies bring,
To plant them, by thy mighty hand,
Where the proud towers of Salem stand;
While JAO reigns their warrior king,
Low in the deep's unfathomed caves,
The warrior's rest, of Mazur's land,
Save when the surge that idly raves,
Heaves their cold corses on the sand.
With courage unappalled, in vain
They rush'd within the channel'd main ;
Their heads the billows folded o'er ;
While THOU thy chosen host hast led,
Through the green Ocean's coral bed,
To ancient Edom's palmy shore.
The memory of the wonderful event, which this Hebrew Ode commemorates, according to Diodorus, was long preserved by tradition among the natives of the African shore of the Red Sea. The ancient Hebrew, or rather Arabic names, of different mountains or passes on the African and Arabian shores of that sea, are still re tained with little variation.
"THE JOY OF GRIEF." OSSIAN.
SWEET the hour of tribulation,
When the heart can freely sigh, And the tear of resignation
Twinkles in the mournful eye!
Have you felt a kind emotion
Tremble thro' your troubled breast,
Soft as Evening o'er the ocean,
When she charms the waves to rest?.
Have you lost a friend, a brother?
Heard a father's parting breath?
Gazed upon a lifeless mother,
Till she seem'd to wake from death?
Have you felt a spouse expiring
In your arms, before your view?
Watch'd the lovely soul retiring
From her eyes, that closed on you?
Did not grief then grow romantic,
Raving on remember'd bliss?
Did you not, with fervor frantic,
Kiss the lips, that felt no kiss?
Yes!--but when you bad resign'd her,
Life and you were reconciled;
Anna left, she left behind her,
One, one dear,-one only child!
But before the green moss peeping,
His poor mother's grave array'd,
In that grave the infant sleeping,
On the mother's lap was laid!
Horror then, your heart congealing,
Chill'd you with intense despair;
Can you recollect the feeling?
No, there was no feeling there!
From that gloomy trance of sorrow,
When you woke to pangs unknown,
How unwelcome was the morrow,
For it rose on you alone!
Sunk in self-consuming anguish,
Can the poor heart always ache ?
No, the tortured nerve will languish,
Or the strings of life must break.
O'er the yielding brow of sadness,
One faint smile of comfort stole;
One soft pang of tender gladness,
Exquisitely thrill'd your soul.
While the wounds of woe are healing,
While the heart is all resign'd,
"Tis the solemn feast of feeling,
'Tis the sabbath of the mind.
Pensive memory then retraces
Scenes of bliss for ever fled,
Lives in former times and places,
Holds communion with the dead.
And when Night's prophetic slumbers
Rend the veil to mortal eyes,
From their tombs the sainted numbers
Of our lost companions rise.
You have seen a friend, a brother;
Heard a dear dead father speak ;
Proved the fondness of a mother,
Felt her tears upon your cheek!
Dreams of love your grief beguiling,
You have clasp'd a consort's charms;
And received your infant smiling,
From his mother's sacred arms.
Trembling, pale, and agonizing,
When you mourn'd the vision gone,
Bright the morning star arising,
Open'd heaven from whence it shone.
Thither all your wishes bending
Rose in ecstacy sublime;
Thither all your hopes ascending
Triumph'd over death and time!
-Thus afflicted, bruised, and broken, Have you known such sweet relief? Yes, my friend!-and by this token, You have felt "the Joy of GRIEF."
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