The Destruction of Pharaoh.
By D. T. Taylor
Lo, the myriads of Egypt went forth to devour,
With their king in his swift-rolling chariot of power;
And the horsemen and warriors that bowed to his rod
Lay black on the path of the armies of God. From his seat, decked in purple, the monarch espied
The foe that his scepter had mocked and defied,
And he sprang on the prey like the hound on the deer,
While the cheek of the Hebrew grew pallid with fear. Stand still, cried the prophet, nor pale at his ire,
Our God will look out from his pillar of fire,
And the blast of his nostrils shall scatter the foe,
Till they sink in the depths of the waters below. Rush on in thine anger, rash king, to thy doom,
Till that pillar shall wrap thee in midnight and gloom,
Till the dark, seething billows shall hiss at thy pride,
And tell how a monarch in madness once died. It was night, and the legions of Pharaoh's proud host
Stood up with their banners, with might and in boast;
It was morning, and lo! all their vaunting was o'er;
For the glory of Egypt lay dashed on the shore. Sing ye to the Lord, who the battle hath won,
His power shall be sounded wide under the sun;
The horse and his rider are drowned in the sea,
The tyrant is vanquished, the captives are free. For the car of Jehovah rolled on in its wrath,
And the hand that would stay it lay crushed in its path;
Not with spear of the mighty, nor edge of the sword,
For thine was the victory, O arm of the Lord. So perish thy foes, O Jehovah and King;
So reign till the stars of the morning all sing;
Till Sin, Death, and Hell, are forever unknown,
And creation restored is Immanuel's throne.