A VOICE FROM DEATH. (The Johnstown, Penn., cataclysm, May 31, 1889.) A VOICE from Death, solemn and strange, in all his sweep and power, With sudden, indescribable blow—towns drown’d—humanity by thousands slain, The vaunted work of thrift, goods, dwellings, forge, street, iron bridge, Dash’d pell-mell by the blow—yet usher’d life continuing on, (Amid the rest, […] […]

The poem in its entirety Come up from the fields, father, here’s a letter from our Pete, And come to the front door, mother, here’s a letter from thy dear son. Lo, ’tis autumn, Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder, Cool and sweeten Ohio’s villages with leaves fluttering in the moderate wind, […] […]