Their gratitude in tears, for they had known the Lord.
Dale.
At His command fled fever, thirsty fiend,
Whose parching fire dries up the wholesome blood:
And madness wild, whose moon-struck eye-balls glare,
With steady gaze, on vacancy: His touch,
With healing virtue, from the withered limbs
Drove nerveless palsy, that with fatal stroke
’Numbs every fibre, grafting death on life—
Unnatural union! Scaly leprosy,