The Destruction of Sennacherib

The Destruction of Sennacherib
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  • The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold.
  • Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
  • For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,  And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;  And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,  And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still.
  • And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,  But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride.
  • And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, the rust on his mail: And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
  • And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal.
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