None could look back, not even to behold
If those beloved were nigh; one thrilling thought
Rapt all the multitude—“Can He be near!”
Then cries of terror rose—I scarcely heard;
And buildings shook, and rocked, and crashing fell—
I scarcely marked their fall; the trembling ground
Rose like the billowy sea—I scarcely felt
The motion, such intensity of hope—
Joy—expectation—flooded all my soul,
A tide of living light, o’erwhelming all