“Count ye the sands—ye count your pale-faced foes.”
XXVIII.
The prophet looked around, the throngs to scan;
And well he noted by the silence dread
The moment of effect, and then began,—
Beseeching first his fearful demon’s aid:
“Chepian, thou power of evil! dread of man!
God of destruction! pouring on the head
Of thy opposers, ruins, plagues, and pest,—