Virginia citizen. (Irvington, Va.) 1891-1921, 1904-04-01
THE IROQUOIS TRAGEDY

Composed by Ora Harding. for VA. CITIZEN
In the great metropolis of the west,
In the midst Of business rush and rosr,
Fair pleasure stands with out -sirea'ched
arms,
And calls In accents sweet and low
Come TO the Iroquois, come
Mr.. "Blue Beard" come and see;
And bring the children every one,
Let them share in our fun and glee.
Kind fathers close their Office doors,
Fond mothers deck their little ones;
They come, the social bellies and beaux,
They come, fair daughters and noble
| sous.
The house ia crowded to the doors,
The merchant prince, the social queen,
The gayest youths, the fsirest maids,
| With smiling faces grace the scene
Dear children, hundreds of them came
With sparkling eyes and faces bright.
Excitement In their little hearts
A real, live "Blue Bearcp woudrous
sight.
The bright lights flashed the music throbs,
The air is sweet with the breath Of
flowers;
The curtain rises. the play proceeds,
Queen pleasure rules the happy hours.
What means that fissh, that lurId gleaml
A fiery serpent darting byg
Who hears win ever more forget
That blood congesling, msddening cryl
Firel and awful silence then.
A thousand throats give forth one cry,
A thousand forms spring to their feet,
One wild, mad rush 10 live or die.
The calm and brave are powerless
To check the panic or to cave
This mad throng from their awful fate
Men &C. as brutes who should be brave.
Behind them roars wave OF flame,
Around them suffocating air.
Before closed windows, bolted doors,
Anguish, madness, death, despair.
Man fight like demo rs for their lives,
Like tigers fighting for their prey,
Gentle women tear and scratch
AS inch by inch they force their way.
The weak are trsmpled by the strong,
The strong Of time succumb at last,
While those who reach the outer world
Over their fallen comrades pass.
Heroes and heroines are here,
Men and women. daughters, sons,
Who give their own small chance OF life
Tohelp or save some weaker one.
A little hero eight years old,
Leads by the hand tiny girl;
With fearless mien and hopeful words
Brings her safe to the outer world.
A girl bends DER fallen lad,
And helps him once more To his feet;
They are torn asunder by the throng--
His grateful glance, she will ne'er
more meet.
Women, with children In their arms.
TO save their lives they madly try,
Lovers with fair ones by their sides
Resolve TO save them or 10 die.
Aid quickly comes-too late-at last
The awful tragedy is DER,
Lips wreathed in smiles q moment since
Alasl alas, will smile no more.
Brave men into the doomed house rushed.
But stand appalled, at what they see.
With blanching cheeks and faintius
hearts
They view the fearful tragedy.
The dead in heaps lie at the doors,
The dying groan In agony,
The living jammed between the dead,
mass of crushed humanity.
Here lies girl, her fair young face
All mangled by the feet of those
Who over her fled for their lives;
And, there, youth as In repose
A fair young mother lies asleep,
Two little ones clasped to her heart,
Death claimed them, but left there no
In death they were not torn apart.
See those still forms yet in their seals.
Their faces to the stage yet turned,
The wave of flame swept over them,
They perished ere the cause they
learned.
Chiidrenl God save us from the sight
a moment since 80 blithe and glad,
Now strangely still their lau ehter hushed
Their bright eyes dimmed, crushed
mangled dead.
Strong men, tears streaming down their
cheeks,
LIT one by one these silcnts forms,
With all mothers tender touch,
Bear them forth In their own strong
arms.
A moment since and all were full
or mirth and gladness, life and light;
And now the calm blue arch of heaven
Ne'er bent above ssdder sight.
oh plying Heaven, no human eye
Fer gazed upon scene more sad
That long, long row, Of human forms,
All crushed, and mangled, still and
dead.
Men wild-eyed, haggard. mad with grief.
Search eagerly this silent throng
For some loved face; bitter cry
Proclaims their sad success ere lono
Frantic mothers call alond
The pet names of their little ones.
Husbands seek for missing wives,
Fathers for their brave young sons