The Charleston daily news. [volume] (Charleston, S.C.) 1865-1873, 1871-08-16
Tn tho shade OF 81: n1ichael's.

walk alone in the chill, drear rain.
Inder the shade OF the old gray tower.
And now and then, from the sacred fame,
hear the bell:for the quarter hour.
In the dreary rain walk alone,
Or stand on the sheltered threshold stone.
Ten O'Clock, the bell has rung,
IS ,'Ten o'o,ock'' was the watchman's CRY
"AI Is veln was the song he sung ,,or,
But the Ginning bell said. "Let hef ole :!
Cheerily sung he. GAIL is wen"
tsLet her die ln said the solemn oeh'
Tbe watohman ia false and the bell Is true;
The watolnlan stands ia narrow place,
Rnt the Sower stands up In the open o:ue,
And looks abroad Win us @ lour,sqaaIe a lie te'e
To the wstchma ans voice IL gives tne le,
And repeat.5 ie5 fourfod LET her die"
The watchman thinks that all is well:
HOW should he know, In his little rouuo!
Like prisoner barred 10 o quiet cell,
He treads and retreads his appointed ground.
INT the tower has wider and higher view
over the earth aud OF heaven TOO.
Ten snd quarter, the bell has rung,
y once more repeating its "Let her dieF'
: 1All Is welln has the watchman sung
and q Tsn1y Esn : o xsn snss
I crouch me down on the threshold stone.
No one else !s walking to night;
Othera shrink from the chlll, arear raSt rs,u'
Ia colder, by far, and fuller OF pain.
The moon. In It's pure and pitiess glory,
Alone could tell OF my sad LIES story.
.Ten and half, and all Is well !"
SIN, through the rain, comes the CHEEKY cry;
ssLet her die p' says St. Michaei,s rs bell,
Again reechotng, "Let her ole "'
on tower, that speakest so sadly true,
Is there no hope In the upper oiue
Yet why should dread the moons pale light,
IS1o od 0n m Y prFiO
Gould 1t carry storj Of that sal night
which should ind no mercy ur above,
with Him who knows all the alt.r tears,
The bitter anguish Of aftef years
"Ten and three quarters, and all '.s well ~
StilI is sounding the watchman's cry,
"Let her die ~ says the solemn bell,
And twice IL re.echoes, "Let her die u
AS II the stately old gray tower
.Grudged me even this lonesome hour.
Gods knows all-the love and the pain,
The SIN. and the weary snaine aud blight;
And perhaps He looks through the clouds OF rain
And pties the Outcast girl to night.
Perhaps lie knows, far IA ore than men,
or wharI am, aud might have been
Perhaps.H He has heard me Wildly rave
or the treacherous love that lured to betray;
Perhaps He has watched DER little grave,
Where la,d the fruit Of my shame away; away;
And listened. perchauce, TO q fathers curse,
That drove his child from bad TO worse.
.Only lover won and lost;
Only 8 broken heart TO save;
8 Only the cruel, cruel cost
OF a blackened name and a tiny grave.
WAS 1t not judgment more than meet
To drive me out on the wicked street'
The wat, hman's voice Mas sleepy tone,
Put boldly and bravey chimes the bell;
TIE night has colder and stler grown,
The re- Is over. and .All Is vel" |"
All is well, dear God, let, me die
There Is none TO whom would say goodbye.
Brightly ahone in the east the sun,
When the wearyeWatchman, his vigils o'er,
Looked down ON St-Michaels threshold stone,
-..A And on the shapeess burden It bore.
L,She is dead,y says the solemn bell.
And the Waterman whispers; "All Is well,p'
Charleston, 8. c., 1870.