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The Destruction of Sennacherib

The Destruction of Sennacherib is a poem by Lord Byron first published in 1815. It is based on an event described in the Bible (2 Kings) during the campaign by Assyrian king Sennacherib to capture Jerusalem. Wikipedia does not have an article with this exact name. ... Wikisource – The Free Library – is a Wikimedia project to build a free, wiki library of source texts, along with translations of source-texts into any language and other supporting materials. ... Lord Byron, English poet Lord Byron (1803), as painted by Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron, (January 22, 1788 – April 19, 1824) was the most widely read English language poet of his day. ... The Battle of New Orleans 1815 was a common year starting on Sunday (see link for calendar). ... The Books of Kings (also known as [The Book of] Kings in Hebrew: Sefer Melachim מלכים) is a part of Judaisms Tanakh, the Hebrew Bible. ... Relief from Assyrian capital of Dur Sharrukin, showing transport of Lebanese cedar (8th c. ... It has been proposed that Sennacherib be renamed and moved to Sin-ahhe-eriba. ... Jerusalem (31°46′N 35°14′E; Hebrew: (help· info) Yerushalayim; Arabic: (help· info) al-Quds, Greek Ιεροσόλυμα), is an ancient Middle Eastern city on the watershed between the Mediterranean Sea and the Dead Sea at an elevation of 650-840 meters. ...

Poem text

The Assyrian came down like a 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.

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.

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 the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

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.

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!