Sinopsis

Though like a shower of fire the sunbeams poured,-- Pharaoh drove onward, till both horse and man With toil were faint, panting, and bathed with sweat; With thirst nigh frenzied. But yet onward--on, Pointed the guides,--still on,--till gleamed, at length, Nor distant, a broad stream; and, nigh its banks, Fresh grass, trees overhanging, and thick groves, Where night seemed hiding. To the cool shade come,-- They slacked the armour,--laid aside the helm,-- With food, and drink, themselves and steeds refreshed