There came a deep and gathering roar.
The father raised his anxious head;
He saw the light, like a dawn of blood,
That streamed across his bed.
It lit the old clock on the wall,
It lit the room with splendor wild,
It lit the fair and tumbled hair
Of the still sleeping child;
And zigzag fence, and rude log barn,
And chip-strewn yard, and cabin gray,