Ye Tempefts, now, from every corner fly,
And wildly rage in all my fancied sky,
Roll on, ye waters, as they roll'd before,
Ye billows of my fancied ocean, roar;
Dafh high, ride foaming, mingle, all the main,.
'Tis done, and Pharaoh can't afflict again.
The work, the wondrous work of freedom 's done,
The winds abate, the clouds reftore the fun,
The wreck appears, the threatening army drown'd
Floats o'er the waves, to ftrew the fandy ground,
Then place thy Mofes near the calming flood,
Majestically mild, ferenely good;
Let meeknefs, lovely virtue, gently stream
Around his vifage, like a lambent flame;
Let grateful fentiments, let fense of love,
Let holy zeal, within his bofom move;
And while his people gaze the watery plain,
And fear's.laft. touches like to doubts remain;
While bright aftonishment, that seems to raise
A queftioning belief, is fond to praise;
Be thus the rapture in the prophet's breast,
Be thus the thanks for freedom gain'd exprefs'd:.
I'll fing to God, I'll fing the fongs of praise,
To God, triumphant in his wondrous ways,
To God, whofe glories in the feas excel,
Where the proud horse and prouder rider fell.
The Lord, in mercy kind, in justice strong,
Is now my ftrength; this strength be now my fong.
This fure falvation fuch he proves to me,
From danger rescued, and from bondage free;.
The Lord's my God, and I'll prepare his feat,
My father's God, and I'll proclaim him great;
Him Lord of battles, Him renown'd in Name,
Him ever-faithful, evermore the same.
His gracious aids avenge his people's thrall,
They make the pride of boafting Pharaoh fall.
Within the feas his ftately chariots lie,
Within the feas his chofen captains die.
The rolling deeps have cover'd o'er the foe,
They funk like stones, they swiftly funk below!
Thine hand, my God! thine hand confefs'd thy care,
Thine hand was glorious in thy power there,
It broke their troops, unequal for the fight,
In all the greatness of excelling might :
Thy wrath fent forward o'er the raging stream,
Swift, fure, and fudden, their destruction came.
They fell as ftubble burns, while driving skies
Provoke and whirl a flame, and ruin flies.
When blasts, difpatch'd with wonderful intent,
On fovereign orders from thy noftrils went,
For our accounts, the waters were afraid,
Perceiv'd thy Prefence, and together fled;
In heaps uprightly plac'd, they learn to stand,
Like banks of crystal, by the paths of sand.
Then, fondly flush'd with hope, and fwell'd with pride
And fill'd with rage, the foe profanely cry'd,
Secure of conqueft, I'll pursue their way,
I'll overtake them, I'll divide the prey,
My luft I 'll fatisfy, mine anger cloy,
My fword I'll brandish, and their name destroy.
How wildly threats their anger, hark! above,
New blafts of wind on new commiffion move,
To loose the fetters that confin'd the main,
And make its mighty waters rage again:
Then, overwhelm'd with their refiftless fway,
They funk like lead, they funk beneath the sea.
Oh, who 's like thee, thou dreaded Lord of Hoft!
Among the Gods, whom all the nations boast,
Such acts of wonder and of strength displays?
Oh great, Oh glorious in thine holy ways!
Deferving praife, and that thy praife appear
In figns of reverence, and fenfe of fear.
With justice arm'd, thou ftretchedft out thine hand
And earth between its gaping jaws of land
Receiv'd its waters of the parted main,
And fwallow'd up the dark Egyptian train.
With mercy rifing on the weaker fide,
Thyfelf became the rescued people's guide!
And in thy ftrength they paft th' amazing road
To reach thine Holy Mount, thy blefs'd abode.
What thou haft done the neighbouring realms fhall
hear,
And feel the ftrange report excite their fear.
What thou haft done fhall Edom's Duke amaze,
And make despair on Palestina feize.
Shall make the warlike fons of Moab shake,
And all the melting hearts of Canaan weak.
In heavy damps, diffus'd on every breast,
Shall cold distrust and hopeless terror rest,
The matchless Greatness, which thine hand has shewn,
Shall keep their kingdoms as unmov'd as stone,
While Jordan ftops above, and fails,below,
And all thy flock across the channel go.
Thus on thy Mercy's filver-fhining wing,
Through seas and streams thou wilt the nation bring,
And as the rooted trees fecurely stand.
So firmly plant it in the promis'd land;
Where for thyself thou wilt a place prepare,
And after-ages will thine altar rear,
There reign victorious in thy facred feat,
Oh, Lord! for ever and for ever great.
Look where the tyrant was but lately feen,
The seas gave backward, and he ventur'd in :
In yonder gulph with haughty pomp he fhew'd,
Here march'd his horsemen, there his chariots rode,
And when our God reftor'd the floods again,
Ah, vainly. ftrong! they perish'd in the main;
But Ifrael went a dry furprizing way,
Made fafe by miracles, amidst the fea.
Here ceas'd the fong, though not the Prophet's joy, Which others hands and others tongues employ; For ftill the lays, with warmth divine expreft, Inflam'd his hearers to their inmoft breast. Then Miriam's notes the chorus sweetly raife, And Miriam's timbrel gives new life to praise. The moving founds, like foft delicious wind, That breath'd from paradife, a paffage find, Shed fympathies for odours as they rove, And fan the rifings of enkindled love.
O'er all the croud the thought inspiring flew,
The women follow'd, with their timbrels too,
And thus from Mofes, where his ftrains arose,
They catch'd a rapture, to perform the close.
We'll fing to God, we 'll fing the fongs of praife,
To God triumphant in his wondrous ways,
To God, whofe glories in the feas excel,
Where the proud horse and prouder rider fell.
Thus Ifrael, raptur'd with the pleasing thought,
Of freedom wifh'd, and wonderfully got,
Made chearful thanks from every bank refound,
Exprefs'd by fongs, improv'd in joy by found.
Oh, facred Mofes, each infufing line,
That mov'd their gratitude, was part of thine;
And still the Chriftians in thy numbers view,
The type of Baptifm, and of Heaven too.
So fouls from water rife to grace below,
So faints from toil to praise and glory go.
Oh, grateful Miriam, in thy temper wrought,
Too warm for filence, or inventing thought;
Thy part of anthem was to warble o'er,
In fweet response what Moses sung before.
Thou ledft the public voice to join his lays,
And words redoubling, well-redoubled praise.
Receive thy title, prophetefs was thiné,
When here thy practice fhew'd thy form divine.
The spirit thus approv'd, refign'd in will,
The church bows down, and hears refponfes ftill.
Nor flightly fuffer tuneful Jubal's name
To mifs his place among the fons of fame;
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