The Traveller at the Red Sea

At last have I found thee, thou dark rolling sea!
I gaze on thy face, and I listen to thee,
With spirit o'erawed by the sight and the sound,
While mountain and desert frown gloomy around.

And thee, mighty deep, from afar I behold,
Which God swept apart for his people of old—
That Egypt's proud army, unstained by their blood,
Received on thy bed, to entomb in thy flood.

I cast my eye out, where the cohorts went down:
A throng of pale spectres, no waters can drown,
With banner and blades, seem to rise on the waves,
As Pharaoh's bold hosts rushed in arms to their graves.

But quick from the light of the skies they withdraw,
At silent Omnipotence shrinking with awe;
And each sinks away in his billowy shroud,
From him who walked here, clothed in fire and a cloud.

I stand by the pass, the freed Hebrews then trod,
Sustained by the hand of Jehovah, dry-shod;
And think how the song of salvation, they sang,
With praise to his name, through the wilderness rang.

Our Father, who then didst thine Israel guide,
Console, and rebuke in their wanderings wide,
From these gloomy waters, through this desert drear,
O still in life's maze, to thy pilgrim be near!

Let sins, that would hold in their service, or slay
The soul, that would break from their bondage away,
Forever be drowned in the blood of thy Son,
Who o'er sin and death hath the victory won.

Whilst thou, day by day, wilt thy manna bestow,
And give, for my thirst, the Rock-fountain to flow,
Refreshed by the way, will I speed to the clime
Of rest for the weary, beyond earth and time.