And, with distance faint, the brattling drums, the trumpet’s mighty blast,
And the clarion rung and sounded like an echo from the Past.
All at once the glorious vision melted, faded in the air,
Like a desert exhalation, leaving all its ruin bare.
And, in place of glory and the beauty of the olden day,
I beheld the Queen of Cities wasted, fallen in decay.
THE MISSIONARY, SUNLIGHT.
———
BY CAROLINE C——.