Another of Mrs. McDonald's poems, written on the day of the killing, is as follows:
Kill me if you will, for all is well.
I know that to Satan your soul you can't sell,
And I've saved you from everlasting hell.
I had lifted you up, when, lo! I found
Slowly but surely you were dragging me down.
Out of space thus came a warning
Soft and clear as the breath of the morning.
Pearls Before Swine.
Have you learned the old saying of pearls before swine?
I gave every pearl that ever was mine.
I've nothing more to give.
And it's hardly worth while for me to live.
More blessed to give than receive, they say.
I followed that teaching in my poor way.
I wanted returns, I'll have to confess,
And I had to be cool, and firm and brave,
For I knew 'twas my duty your soul to save.
And I've set your feet on the path of right,
And from now till the end you shall see but the light
And turn from it to pitfalls and terrors of night.
Turn to the right, to the wrong you may sway.
From black imps' vile rottenness I've snatched you away,
And though I fall slain at your feet with a moan,
I care not, for evil from you has flown;
And, by all the glory of God above,
I've proven the strength of a weak woman's love,
And I thought my pearls would bring love that was blessed.
I did so want love that was loyal;
'Twas more to me than a diadem royal.
But I found too late that I was wrong,
That love but existed in hopes and in song.
What became of those pearls of mine?
Oh, nothing! I just threw my pearls to the swine.
Another Poem of Passion.
I waged a battle fierce and long,
I fought to know the right from wrong.
Did I succeed? I cannot tell,
Yet when I met sin I knew full well
That fight's not over. 'Tis scarcely begun,
And I struggle again to win, one by one,
Steps on the ladder that mounts to great deeds,
Where the path to the right unfailingly leads.
As I gazed at the battlefield, flooded with gore,
Where the path to the right unfailingly bore,
I knew that the wounds came from contact with sin.
'Twas demons let loose that float in the air;
But the fight's worth the while, for when
Misery and heartaches shall all pass away
Right has full sway.
The reading of the poems was followed intently by the big crowd in Judge Brentano's courtroom. Mrs. McDonald appeared uninterested.
From poetry the step was easy into song. Accomplished and educated as Dora McDonald was, with time hanging, sometimes, heavy on her hands, what more natural than that she should set her verses to music of her own composing?
Never Again.
(Song written, composed and published by Mrs. Michael C. McDonald.)