The seas flowed forth; an uproar rose to
heaven, a moan of mighty legions. There rose a great cry of the
doomed, and over them the air grew dark. Blood dyed the deep.
The walls of water were shattered; the greatest of sea-deaths
lashed the heavens. Brave princes died in throngs. At the sea's
end hope of return had vanished away. War shields flashed. The
wall of water, the mighty sea-stream, rushed over the heroes.
The multitude was fettered fast in death, deprived of escape,
cunningly bound. The ocean-sands awaited the doom ordained when
the flowing billows, the ice-cold, wandering sea with its salt
waves, a naked messenger of ill, a hostile warrior smiting down
its foes, should come again to seek its ancient bed.
(ll. 470-491) The blue air was defiled with blood. The roaring
ocean menaced the march of the seamen with terror of death, till
the Just God swept the warriors away by Moses' hand. The flood
foamed, hunting them afar, bearing them off in its deadly
embrace. The doomed men died. The sea fell on the land; the
skies were shaken. The watery ramparts crumbled, the great waves
broke, the towering walls of water melted away, when the Mighty
Lord of heaven with holy hand smote the warriors and that haughty
race. They could not check the onrush of the sea, nor the fury
of the ocean-flood, but it destroyed the multitude in shrieking
terror.
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