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