The cherubim descended; on the ground
Gliding mysterious, as evening mist
Risen from a river, o’er the marish glides,
And gathers round, fast at the labourer’s heel
Homeward returning. High in front advanced,
The brandished sword of God before them blazed,
Fierce as a comet; which with torrid heat
And vap’rous as the Libyan air adust,
Began to parch that temperate clime; whereat
On either hand the hast’ning angels caught