MIRIAM’S SONG.
A wail in the palace, a wail in the hut,
The midnight is shivering with dread,
And Egypt wakes up with a shriek and a sob
To mourn for her first-born and dead.
In the morning glad voices greeted the light,
As the Nile with its splendor was flushed;
At midnight silence had melted their tones,
And their music forever is hushed.
In the morning the princes of palace and court
To the heir of the kingdom bowed down;
’Tis midnight, pallid and stark in his shroud
He dreams not of kingdom or crown.
As a monument blasted and blighted by God,
Through the ages proud Pharaoh shall stand,
All seamed with the vengeance and scarred with the wrath
That leaped from God’s terrible hand.