Johnstown weekly Democrat. (Johnstown, Cambria County, Pa.) 1889-1916, 1889-08-23
rHE FLooD Ar JoHNsrowx.
Lines Written by Emma Viola Harry, of the
" Harry Sisters."

lines written by Emma Viola Harry, OF the
Harry Sisters"
Having travelled through that portion
of the State, and having many friends and
acquaintance in the vicinity, my feel
ings were deeply touched, and my iuter-
est awakened by the sad and unlocked
for event, that has desolatcd so many
hearts and has almost devastated that
once beautiful and flourishing city. This
little tribute of sympathy dedicate to the
bereaved.
Evening fell o'er the silent town,
Evening, dismal and dreary--
Steadily, sadly the rain came down,
Seeming never to weary.
Happy and blooming, young mother fair
sat clasping her babes asleep
Sweet rose her song on the Silly air.
While the angels paused to weep.
Youth, so though less, and age. so meek
Were dwelling mid tears ana smiles
The sky is darEnlrg-oh man is weak
And no thought q fear begui.es
But, hark what means this rushing sound
That is falling upoa the ear9
\ cry OF horror breaks around,
And mingles With sroans and tears
The waters are fuar3iHg, and dashing past
They are risiaJ mGI "a md HIGHER
They writhe and hiss aud plunge and gasp -
With menace tlerce aud dire
Annghted the mother clasps her arms
Around her babes. prayer
Rises to heaven 10 guard from harm.
And keep them with tenderest care.
oh many have sought, and sought in vain
shelter nom wind and wave
And now. as rhe evening pales and wanes.
The torrent becomes grave.
And Others have caught floating plank
And their viii g, unearthly faces,
Clean through the mosses, damp and dank.
That once decled their old home places.
The frownlng mountain, so dark, and cold
Looks down, all in gloom-full OF pity
And its Iuttingsides, and its tree-tops bold
Seem sorrowlng o'er the doomed city.
| Oh how piercing the shrleks OF the young and
the Old,
And how ghastly their looks-how their tones
Grow wild-then feebe-ah! still, and SO cold.
They sink-'peath the billows-alOne.
Oh, Father In mere look down from on high,
And say, as Of Old, Peace, be still "
| Thou, Lord, and Thou, only, these storm-waves
can dry
And with Joy these sad mourDers can Ill:
| And, oh when We book on the lake, when # lies
SO peaceful, aud bright, and calm,
Reposlng serenely, beneath The blue Sky,
And seeming, no sorrowful qualm
Ere ruf1ies her bysola, as brightly the sun
Reflected in beauty appears
| Oh, ConemaU n! think Of the deed tn Il hast
done.
And thy cold drops Will change into tears.
Bnt, erewLile the wind lises, and blows DER the
lake,
And sobb!ng, the b llo..y waves
Lap the bankand the mosses the flower and the
brake.
And fI1ghten the birdling that laves
Its white-ciesied wing in thr water, that blows
With tireless motion on slloie.
Saying, still saying, as 1t Gibbs, and It flows,
~ have made them a grave evermore
Nevermore wi The children, so blooming and
bright,
Play I'm innocent sport round my bed
Nevermore viii the youth, with steps free and
light,
The sands OF my banks blithely tread
have made them grave meath the shade Of
the hills,
In the valleys, by mogntains, ana streams,
Yet the murmur OF brooks, and the song of the
lflls
Disturb not their sweet, happy dreams:
But the homes of their youth shall know them
no more
Fair Johnstown IS wrapped in deep gloom
And the s;rcc,s thaJ were joyful in bright
days Of ore.
Are nov silent ana sad as ,he tomb.
Carlisle. Pa, June !, 1883.