126
Poems.
There were proud hearts and stern,
And men of noble daring; but all,
All was terror in a scene like this.
Angels must have looked with pity on
That sight; there's not a heart that's heard the
Painful tale, but feels as if some loved
One had departed from their own dear
Fire-side: all eyes have wept over the
Horrors of that suffering night, which
Fancy cannot paint, nor pen describe.
And men of noble daring; but all,
All was terror in a scene like this.
Angels must have looked with pity on
That sight; there's not a heart that's heard the
Painful tale, but feels as if some loved
One had departed from their own dear
Fire-side: all eyes have wept over the
Horrors of that suffering night, which
Fancy cannot paint, nor pen describe.
Among the hapless crowd,
Moved one who just returned from some far
Distant clime, was wending onward to
His eastern home, to consummate, with
Heaven's blessing, a holy rite. But
His sweet dream of happiness was brief;
Death's angel hovered o'er him in that
Trying hour, and took his spirit to
A brighter realm.
Moved one who just returned from some far
Distant clime, was wending onward to
His eastern home, to consummate, with
Heaven's blessing, a holy rite. But
His sweet dream of happiness was brief;
Death's angel hovered o'er him in that
Trying hour, and took his spirit to
A brighter realm.
Truly he hath gone home,
But not the home he fondly dreamed of;
While she, the loved one, who with anxious
Thoughts was waiting his return, doth feel
The withering blast of disappointment
But not the home he fondly dreamed of;
While she, the loved one, who with anxious
Thoughts was waiting his return, doth feel
The withering blast of disappointment
