The Fireman’s Death.
He slept, and o’er his dauntless brow
A shade of sorrow stole,
As though some scene of deep distress,
Was busy with his soul.
When suddenly the dread alarm,
Came ringing shrill and clear,
Cleaving the night air, till it struck
Upon his startled ear.
CHORUS
He bounded up: his practised eye,
Was turn’d upon the lurid sky,
Lit by the flames, which mounting higher,
Soon clothed the night in a robe of fire.
With lightning speed he reach’d the scene—
Oh! what a sight was there!
A mother stood amid the flames,
And shriek’d in wild despair!
Her arms around her frighten’d babe
Where thrown with frenzied clasp,
As though she fear’d the fire-fiend
Would tear it from her grasp.
With helmet turn’d, through fire and smoke,
The gallant fellow fearless broke;
He saved them both, but ah! his life
Was lost in the unequal strife.
Now in sweet Greenwood’s peaceful shade
The noble hero sleeps,
And o’er his grave full many a friend,
In silent sorrow sweeps.
A monument erected there
Is pointed to with pride
By those with whom he often fought
The fire, side by side.
Sweet flow’rs exhale their fragrant breath,
Where now he, peaceful sleeps in death
And trees their spreading branches wave
Above his solemn Greenwood grave.