The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1849-05-31

The Voice of the PeStiIence.

The Voice of the PeStilence.
This splendid poem was written in 1881, or
the approach of the Cholera from the east to
ward the western part of Europe, and it is aP
propriate to its renewed apparition and west
ward progress, as mentioned IN recent journals
For vigorous expression, sublime thought, and
high poetical finish, we have seldom met with
poetry TO excel it, and we are sorry that we
cannot give the authors name.-Pennsylu'n
Breathless the course of the Pale White Horse
Bearing the CHASTITY form
Rapid and dark as the spectre bark
When it sweeps before the storm
Balefully bright through the torrid night
Ensanguined meteors glare
Fiercely the spires of volcanic fires
Stream on the sulphurous air!
Shades of the slain thro' the murderer's brain
Fit terrible and drear-
Shadowy anu swift the black storm drift
Doth tramPle the atmosphere.
But swifter than all, with darker pail
OF terror around my path,
nave arisen from my lampless prison
Slave of the high Gods wrath
a deep Voice went from the Firmament,
And it pierced the caves of Earth
Therefore came my wings of fame
From the dark place of my birth!
And it suid: ''Go from the south to the north,
Over yon wandering ball
Sin is the King of the doomed Thing,
And the sin beguied must fall"
Forth from the Gate of the Uncreate,
From the portals of the Abyss
From the caverns dim where vague forms swim
And shapeless chaos is,
From Haidcs' womb-from the joyless tomb
Of Erebus and Old Night
From the unseen deep where death and sleep
Brood in their mystic might
l come--I come-before me are dumb
The nations ughast for dread
Lo! have past the desert blast
And the millions Of Earth lie dead.
A voice of fear from the Hemisphere
Tracketh me where l fly
Earth weeping aloud for her widowhood-
A wild and desolate cry.
Thrones and dominions beneath my pinions
Cover like the meanest things
Melt from my presence the pride and the pleas
Of palor stricken kings. lance
Sorrow and mourning supremely scorning,
My throne is the boundless air
My chosen shroud is the dark plumed cloud
Which the whirling breezes bear.
Was not borne on the wings of the morn
From the jungles Of Jessore,
Over the plain os the purple main
To the far Mauritian shore?
To the isles which sleep on the sunbright deep
Of coral paved sea;
Where the blue waves welter benea tn the shell
OF Heavens serenity Gtel
From the womb of the waters, athirst for
i rose that thirst to sate- Tslaughters
These green isles graves in the waste o.
This beauty is desolate! 1.-The waves
From the wide Eryterean the noise of my pear
Rolled OH tho southern blast
Eternal Taurus made answering chorus!
From the glaciers lone and vast.
did 1 not pass his granite mass.
And the rigid Caucasian hill
Over burning sands, over frost chained lands,
Borne at my own wild will!
Then hark to the beat of my fastening feet.
Thou shrined in the sea;
Where are the dreams that the ocean streams
Would be safety unto thee?
Awaken! awaken! my wings arc shaken
Athwart the troubled sky
Streams the red glance of my meteor lance,
And the glare of eager eyel
Hearken, oh hearken! my coming shall darker
The light of thy fiesta cheer;
In thy storm rocked home on the Northern
Nurselng ofOcean-hearl Ifoau
HoMICiDE.-'Ma, here's word in pa
per | want to know-what's homicide?
a homicide. child. is one who murder.