Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Africa: Vol. XXIV. 1876–79. | | | | Introductory to Egypt, Nubia, and Abyssinia | | The Destroying Angel | | Abraham Cowley (1618–1667) |
| | (From The Plagues of Egypt)
IT was the time when the still moon | |
| Was mounted softly to her noon, | |
| And dewy sleep, which from night’s secret springs arose, | |
| Gently as Nile the land o’erflows; | |
| When, lo, from the high countries of refinéd day, | 5 |
| The golden heaven without allay,— | |
| Whose dross in the creation purged away, | |
| Made up the sun’s adulterate ray,— | |
| Michael, the warlike prince, does downward fly, | |
| Swift as the journeys of the sight, | 10 |
| Swift as the race of light, | |
| And with his wingéd will cuts through the yielding sky. | |
| He passed through many a star, and, as he passed, | |
| Shone (like a star in them) more brightly there | |
| Than they did in their sphere. | 15 |
| On a tall pyramid’s pointed head he stopped at last, | |
| And a mild look of sacred pity cast | |
| Down on the sinful land where he was sent | |
| To inflict the tardy punishment. | |
| “Ah, yet,” said he, “yet, stubborn king, repent, | 20 |
| While thus unarmed I stand, | |
| Ere the keen sword of God fill my commanded hand. | |
| Suffer but yet thyself and thine to live; | |
| Who would, alas, believe, | |
| That it for man,” said he, | 25 |
| “So hard to be forgiven should be, | |
| And yet for God so easy to forgive.” | | | | |
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