Elizabeth Margaret Chandler

“ Cope with His wrathful strength, who wields the thunder,
And looketh on the wide extended earth,
Even as a little thing?—Thy heart is raised,
Yea, lifted up in pride and vanity,
For thine exalted power and high estate—
But know'st thou not that He who raiseth up,
Can bring thee low e'en to the very dust,
And change thy glory into emptiness?
Then waken not the terrors of His wrath,
Nor scorn his mandate—let this people go!”
But Pharaoh harden'd still his heart, till God,
With a high hand, brought out his chosen people,
And whelm'd the might of Egypt in the wave. ”

“ He pour'd his eloquence to Pharaoh's ear.
“Thus saith the Lord Jehovah, God Omnipotent!
Let thou this people go—their wives, their children,
Their herds of cattle, and their snowy flocks,—
And whatsoe'er belongeth unto them,
Shall with themselves, unransom'd, all be free.
Say not within thy heart, as thou hast said,
That his unchanging will shall pass away,
And yet be unaccomplish'd; nor yet hope
With words deceitful to evade his purpose.
Why should'st thou war with Heaven? ”

“ What, is it just that a white skin should give
To man the power to tyrannize o'er man?
That hundreds of the human race should toil,
To feed the wealth and luxury of one—
A scanty sustenance their only meed? ”