Charles H. Spurgeon on Psalms 105:34

Came...and that without number.

Onward they came, a dark continuous cloud

Of congregated myriads number less;

The rushing of whose wings was as the sound

Of some broad river, headlong in its course,

Plunged from a mountain summit; or the roar

Of a wild ocean in the autumnal storm,

Shattering its billows on a shore of rocks,

Onward they came, the winds impelled them on. —Robert Southey, 1774-1843.