When Israel's race from bondage fled

When Israel's race from bondage fled, Signs from on high the wanderers led; But here—Heaven hung no symbol here, Their steps to guide, their souls to cheer; They saw, thro' sorrow's lengthening night, Nought but the fagot's guilty light; The cloud they gazed at was the smoke, That round their murdered brethren broke. Nor power above, nor power below, Sustained them in their hour of wo; A fearful path they trod, And dared a fearful doom; To build an altar to their God, And find a quiet tomb.