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88
General William Booth
Ne'er had I seen a flame.
There you piled fagots on,
Heat rose—the blast to tame.
There by the cave-door dark,
Comforting me you cried—
Wailed o'er my wounded knee,
Wept for my rock-torn side.
Up from the South I trailed—
Left regions fierce and fair!
Left all the jungle-trees,
Left the red tiger's lair.
Dream led, I scarce knew why,
Into your North I trod—
Ne'er had I known the snow,
Or the frost-blasted sod.
O how the flakes came down!
O how the fire burned high!
Strange thing to see he was,
Thro' his dry twigs would fly,
Creep there awhile and sleep—
Then wake and bark for fight—
Biting if I too near
Came to his eye so bright.
Then with a will you fed
Wood to his hungry tongue.
