Let holy horror blanch each brow,
Pale every cheek with fears,
And rocks and stones, if ye could speak,
Ye well might melt to tears.
Through every fane send forth a cry,
Of sorrow and regret,
Nor in an hour of careless ease
Thy brother's wrongs forget.
THE NIGHT OF DEATH. 53
Veil not thine eyes, nor close thy lips,
Nor speak with bated breath;
This evil shall not always last,
The end of it is death.
Avert the doom that crime must bring
Upon a guilty land;
Strong in the strength that God supplies,
For truth and justice stand.
For Christless men, with reckless hands,
Are sowing round thy path
The tempests wild that yet shall break
In whirlwinds of God's wrath.
THE NIGHT OF DEATH.
Twas a night of dreadful horror,—
Death was sweeping through the land;
And the wings of dark destruction
Were outstretched from strand to strand
Strong men's hearts grew faint with terror,
As the tempest and the waves