“the Earthquake”

Date

2-5-1812

Newspaper

The Palladium

Page and Column

Page 2 Column 1.

Serial Number

246

Abstract

Poem about the New Madrid earthquake

Transcript

THE EARTHQUAKE. But oh! What means that ruinous roar? Why fail The Godhead's power and trembling at his touch Through all its pillars, and in ever pore, Hurls to the ground, with one convulsive heave, Precipitating clothes, and towns, and towers, The work of ages. Crushed beneath the weight Of general devastation, millions and One common graves not e'en a widow left To wail her sons; the house, that should protect, Entombs his master; and the faithless plain. If there he flies for help, with sudden yawn. Starts from beneath him. Shield me, gracious Heaven! O snatch me from destruction! If this globe, This solid globe, which thine own hand hath made So firm and sure, of this my steps betray; If my own mother Earth from whence I sprang, Rise up with rage unnatural to devour Her wretched off spring, whither shall I fly? Where look for succour? Where but up to thee ALMIGHTY FATHER? Save, O save thy supplicant From horrors such as these! At thy good time Let Death approach; I reek not-let him but-come In genuine form, not with thy vengeance armed, Too much for man to bear. O rather lend Thy kindly aid to mitigate his stroke; And at that hour when all aghast I stand (A trembling candidate for thy compassion,) On this world's brink, and look into the next; When my soul, starting from the dark unknown, Casts back a wishful look, and fondly clings To her frail prop, unwilling to be wrenched From this fair scene, from all her customed joys, And all the lovely relatives of life; Then shed thy comforts o'er me, then put on The gentlest of thy looks. Let no dark crimes, In all their hideous forms then starting up, Plant themselves round my couch in grim array, And stab my bleeding heart with two-edged torture, Sense of past guilt and dread of future woe Far be the ghastly crew; And in their stead Let cheerful Memory, from her purest cells, Lead forth a goodly train of virtues fair, Cherished in earliest youth, now paying back, With tenfold usury, the pious care, And pouring o'er my wounds the heavenly balm Of conscious innocence. But, chiefly, thou, Whom soft-eyed Pity once led down from Heaven To bleed for man to teach him how to live, And, oh, still harder lesson! How to die; Of sickness and of pain. Forgive the tear That feeble nature drops, calm all her fears, Wake all her hopes, animate her faith, Till my wrapt soul, anticipating Heaven, Bursts from the thraldom of encumbering clay, and on the wing of ecstasy upborne, Springs into Liberty, and Light, and Life.

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