With mien majestic, yes, with hasty tread,
Their trembling flight their aged father led.
Next came the virgins, able scarce to stand,
And followed by their mother, last of all the band.
She yet to Sodom and its idols clave,
And dared Jehovah's awful wrath to brave;
One look she sought, her weary journey to beguile,
And in a moment stood transfixed—a Salty Pile!
The more obedient trio onward fly,
Until the opening gates of Zoar greet the eye.