PRIME minister of Death! mysterious, dread!
We can not see thy haggard form and face,
We do not feel thy breath, nor hear thy tread,
Nor know the secrets of thy dwelling place.
We tremble at thy name, and weeping, trace
Thy footsteps by the victims left behind;
Yet, have no power to stay thee in thy race.
As well might puny mortals hope to bind
The lightning's flaming wing, or chain the wandering wind.
By many a hearth, where light to joy were shed
From sunny eyes and young hearts glad and tree,
The last, lone mourner watches by her dead.
Spirit of outer darkness! can it be
That human woe and wail delighteth thee?
Art pleased to see the burning tear-drops start;
To wring the changes on pale agony,
And rend the fondest ties of love apart?
Ah, foulest fiend of hell, how pitiless thou art!
Grave-digger of the nations though thy power
Baffles our human knowledge, yet we know
Though hast all lands, all oceans for thy dower.
Youth, hoary age, fair childhood, friend and foe,
Beauty and bravery, feel alike the blow
They have no strength to ward, no time to shun.
The shriek of anguish and the wail of woe,
From tropic climes, where first thy work begun,
Will follow thy dear path till time's last setting sun.
Hovel and homestead, hut and lordly dome
Are thine, all thine, if human hearts are there.
Wan twilight finds thee in the quiet home,
Moving unseen amidst the young and fair.
Bright morning sees the anguish, the despair
Of dear ones parting — some from all the fears
And hopes of life; some to live on and bear
All bitter memories and burning tears,
And loneliness of heart, through many weary years.
The land is desolate that thou hast sown
With death and sorrow, ruin and decay.
The air of heaven is sick with grief and moan,
Where thy grim shadow hides the light of day.
Surely the Lord, our God, will bid thee stay.
From East to West, men joined in Christian bands,
With one accord, for this devoutly pray,
And all the noblest, best of many lands,
Stretch to the suffering South well-filled and generous hands.
Our minds are all too finite to conceive
And comprehend God's purpose and intent,
But we can trust His goodness and believe
That he permitted thee in mercy meant
To teach rebellious nations to repent;
And when life reaps the harvest death has sown,
When the full measure of time's years is spent,
And all the secrets of God's love made known,
Thy mission will be read before the eternal throne.
We can not see thy haggard form and face,
We do not feel thy breath, nor hear thy tread,
Nor know the secrets of thy dwelling place.
We tremble at thy name, and weeping, trace
Thy footsteps by the victims left behind;
Yet, have no power to stay thee in thy race.
As well might puny mortals hope to bind
The lightning's flaming wing, or chain the wandering wind.
By many a hearth, where light to joy were shed
From sunny eyes and young hearts glad and tree,
The last, lone mourner watches by her dead.
Spirit of outer darkness! can it be
That human woe and wail delighteth thee?
Art pleased to see the burning tear-drops start;
To wring the changes on pale agony,
And rend the fondest ties of love apart?
Ah, foulest fiend of hell, how pitiless thou art!
Grave-digger of the nations though thy power
Baffles our human knowledge, yet we know
Though hast all lands, all oceans for thy dower.
Youth, hoary age, fair childhood, friend and foe,
Beauty and bravery, feel alike the blow
They have no strength to ward, no time to shun.
The shriek of anguish and the wail of woe,
From tropic climes, where first thy work begun,
Will follow thy dear path till time's last setting sun.
Hovel and homestead, hut and lordly dome
Are thine, all thine, if human hearts are there.
Wan twilight finds thee in the quiet home,
Moving unseen amidst the young and fair.
Bright morning sees the anguish, the despair
Of dear ones parting — some from all the fears
And hopes of life; some to live on and bear
All bitter memories and burning tears,
And loneliness of heart, through many weary years.
The land is desolate that thou hast sown
With death and sorrow, ruin and decay.
The air of heaven is sick with grief and moan,
Where thy grim shadow hides the light of day.
Surely the Lord, our God, will bid thee stay.
From East to West, men joined in Christian bands,
With one accord, for this devoutly pray,
And all the noblest, best of many lands,
Stretch to the suffering South well-filled and generous hands.
Our minds are all too finite to conceive
And comprehend God's purpose and intent,
But we can trust His goodness and believe
That he permitted thee in mercy meant
To teach rebellious nations to repent;
And when life reaps the harvest death has sown,
When the full measure of time's years is spent,
And all the secrets of God's love made known,
Thy mission will be read before the eternal throne.