46 He to the caterpillar gavethe fruits of all their soil;Their labours he deliver'd upunto the locusts' spoil.
47 Their vines with hail, their sycamoreshe with the frost did blast:
48 Their beasts to hail he gave; their flockshot thunderbolts did waste.
49 Fierce burning wrath he on them cast,and indignation strong,And troubles sore, by sending forthill angels them among.
50 He to his wrath made way; their soulfrom death he did not save;But over to the pestilencethe lives of them he gave.
51 In Egypt land the first-born allhe smote down ev'ry where;Among the tents of Ham, ev'n thesechief of their strength that were.
52 But his own people, like to sheep,thence to go forth he made;And he, amidst the wilderness,them, as a flock, did lead.