The Poetical Works of Jonathan E. Hoag/A Vision
A Vision
Approach, ye fiends of Vulcan's horde;
To gloat o'er wrecks of homes o'erthrown!
On yonder Hill* the ashes mark,
Where yesterday sweet flowers were grown.
To gloat o'er wrecks of homes o'erthrown!
On yonder Hill* the ashes mark,
Where yesterday sweet flowers were grown.
Did Pluto shake his fiery head,
And bid his seismic forces rise,
That wrapped yon Hill,* where beauty dwelt,,
In sheets of flame that reached the skies?
And bid his seismic forces rise,
That wrapped yon Hill,* where beauty dwelt,,
In sheets of flame that reached the skies?
And thou, old Vulcan, in thy rage
Hast wrought thy will beside the sea;
Now children seek for loved and lost,
Where happy homes were wont to be.
Hast wrought thy will beside the sea;
Now children seek for loved and lost,
Where happy homes were wont to be.
What mean these ruins black and bare?
What ruthless ravage did betide,
That seized upon thy garnered wealth,
And spread destruction far and wide?
Long ages past thy waters blue
Have laved the peerless Golden Gate;
Where mighty guns in silence stand,
To ward thee from the blows of Fate.
Ah, San Francisco, fair and gay,
Proud city by the pulsing sea!
Now ashes strew thy market-place,
Where Death's fierce hand hath smitten thee!
What ruthless ravage did betide,
That seized upon thy garnered wealth,
And spread destruction far and wide?
Long ages past thy waters blue
Have laved the peerless Golden Gate;
Where mighty guns in silence stand,
To ward thee from the blows of Fate.
Ah, San Francisco, fair and gay,
Proud city by the pulsing sea!
Now ashes strew thy market-place,
Where Death's fierce hand hath smitten thee!
* Nob's Hill, a famous residential district, destroyed in the great fire.