A TRIBUTE TO
Assistant Deputy Warden L. H. Wells.
BY G. W. VAN WEIGHS.
Comrade, may the God of heaven ease the maddening pain
That has swept across your bosom since your son was slain;
Think not of him as a mortal mouldering into dust;—
God, too, loved him and, my comrade, He betrays no trust.
You shall see him when the morning breaks above the night of death,