With the hand of a god in mighty wrath,
A descent from heaven with violent gale,
Did the monster strew his odious path,
And ‘rouse the cries of a million to wail.
That loathsome clang of debris contorted,
Chewed and dismembered to a distant plane,
And the sound of sound itself distorted,
With the creaking of iron and steel in strain.
Arches unmade in a strange and twisted shape,
An alien world in moments begotten,
As a thousand watch in ghastly gape,
Of a world the earth has now forgotten.
The voided sound of an earth lamenting,
Silence! Strangeness! The earth now sleeps.
That roaring silence unrelenting,
Broke by none but mournful weeps.
To the homeless, home is heav’n above,
Where no man nor beast can wrath be wrought,
For there the bricks are mortered with love,
A foundation void of crack or fault.
To the mother barren and widowed wife,
Made thus upon this night such name,
‘Tis our Maker still that giveth life,
And brings forth the lost as saints to reign.
