They did not remember his power— the day he redeemed them from the oppressor,
the day he displayed his signs in Egypt, his wonders in the region of Zoan.
He turned their river into blood; they could not drink from their streams.
He sent swarms of flies that devoured them, and frogs that devastated them.
He gave their crops to the grasshopper, their produce to the locust.
He destroyed their vines with hail and their sycamore-figs with sleet.
He gave over their cattle to the hail, their livestock to bolts of lightning.
He unleashed against them his hot anger, his wrath, indignation and hostility— a band of destroying angels.
He prepared a path for his anger; he did not spare them from death but gave them over to the plague.
He struck down all the firstborn of Egypt, the firstfruits of manhood in the tents of Ham.
But he brought his people out like a flock; he led them like sheep through the wilderness.