1 The Assyrian came down
like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming
in purple and gold;
and the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
when the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
2 Like the leaves of the forest
when summer is green,
That host with their banners
at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
3 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!
4 And there lay the steed
with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled
not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
5 And there lay the rider
distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow,
and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
6 And the widows of Ashur
are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke
in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #9165