“If we cannot reach him by law, powder and ball shall,” which was at last fulfilled at the well-curb at Carthage jail.
“Our Patriarch and Prophet, too,
Were massacred; they bled
To seal their testimony,—
They were numbered with the dead,
Ah, tell me, are they sleeping?
Me thinks I hear them say,
’Death’s icy chains are bursting,
’Tis the Resurrection day!’”
* * * * * * * * * *
“Oh, wretched murd’rers, fierce for human blood!
You’ve slain the Prophets of the living God,
Who’ve borne oppression from their early youth,
To plant on earth the principles of truth.”