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 i*iii€8j: io «,:ii;i'«Ts, 
 
 AN 
 
 OEIGINAL POEM: 
 
 
 
 ENTITLED 
 
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 BY 
 
 WILLIAM T. COLLIXS, 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE SCOTT COUKTY TEACHERS' 
 
 INSTITUTE, AT WINCHKSTER, ILLINOIS, 
 
 OCTOBER 20, 1871. 
 
 WINCHESTEK, ILLINOIS: 
 
 PRINTED AT THE INDEPENDENT OFFICE. 
 1871. 
 

 Entered, according to Act of Congress^ in 
 the year 1871, 
 
 BY WILLIAM T. COLLINS, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Co-ngres&j at 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
THE POEM. 
 
 Have you heard of the fire ? 
 Dreadful and dire. 
 Frantic with ire, 
 
 That higher and higher 
 At midnight arose, 
 Alas ! to disclose 
 Misfortunes and woes, 
 Which none could oppose ; 
 "While from the wide plain 
 Of prairie, .amaia 
 Blew wild and insane 
 The fierce hurricane — 
 
 Casting cinders before, 
 
 While the deep roar. 
 On the lake shore, 
 
 Of the flames as they pour, 
 Relates how they vie 
 To drink even dry 
 The deep waters nigh — 
 While the people cry, 
 And seem not to tire. 
 Fire! fire! fire! fire! fire! 
 As the winds inspire 
 The red flames higher, 
 
 Mid the wails and the woe 
 
 Of the doomed Chicago. 
 
 On the court house the bell 
 
 Rings its last knell. 
 Even to tell, 
 
 That the flames do impel 
 
THE FIRE AT CIIiCAGO. 
 
 The bellman away ; 
 As nothing can stay 
 The fire in its prey 
 And relentless swa}-; 
 As wail upon wall 
 Of the buildings fall, 
 And the people all 
 Upon heaven call — 
 
 While the Vfhite bej.t that blew, 
 An avenue, 
 Even right through, 
 
 Brick blocks and granite too 
 "With a breath to singe 
 Iron Fire-Proofs, like fringe, 
 And cause, e'en to cringe, 
 Each bolt, bar and hinge, 
 Moved, swift in the race. 
 All else to efface. 
 Of beauty and grace, 
 And^leave, in their place, 
 
 Only ashes and woe 
 
 For the doomed Chicago. 
 
 But to add to the fright — 
 
 The awful sight — 
 The smuke of night 
 
 Sent buck its lurid light ; 
 
 As wild through the air, 
 E'en nothing to spare. 
 The burnt timbers bear, 
 With a dreadful glare. 
 Destruction o'er head; 
 While, on comes the dread 
 And ominous tread 
 Of the Fire instead ; 
 
 While the wails and the cries. 
 
THE FIRE AT CliiCA'JO. 
 
 The broken sighs, 
 In tVeiizy, 'rise 
 "With the flames toward the skies; 
 
 Not, haply, a moan, 
 
 A sigh or a groan, 
 
 Thus went up alone, 
 
 To the Father's throne ; 
 
 For angel» were there, 
 
 Amid the despair, 
 
 E'en upward to bear, 
 
 The humblest prayer 
 Of His children below, 
 In the doomed Chicago. 
 
 Thus, alas, was the night! 
 
 But swil't for the prey, 
 The red Fiend of fury 
 
 Strode on the next day — 
 Leaving banks and hotels 
 
 Prostrate in his track, 
 Granaries of Nations, 
 
 ymouldering and black; 
 The palaces of trade, 
 
 The domes of the mart, 
 A nd the depots of wealth. 
 
 The grand halls of art, 
 "With homes of the loved- ones 
 
 Presenting a scene 
 Of tumult and ruins. 
 
 Where all was serene ; 
 "While the organs are hushed, 
 
 And minstrels made dumb, 
 For churches, theaters, 
 
 And all did succumb, 
 To this havoc of tire, 
 
 Which svv'ept thro' the heart 
 
6 THE FIRE AT CHICAGO. 
 
 Of this city of trade 
 
 And patron of art ; 
 
 While thousands, made homeless, 
 
 Crouch on the lake-side. 
 
 And recall, in their tears, 
 
 The hopes which have died; 
 
 And vainly endeavor 
 
 In sadness to deem^ — 
 
 'Tis all a delusion — 
 
 'Tis only a dream — 
 
 But the embers, alas! 
 
 Respondingly, say, 
 
 " In us, are the Temples, 
 
 That vanished away^ ; " 
 
 'Tis true, in the distance, 
 
 Insurance may loom 
 
 Like an angel of life, 
 
 To light up the gloom — 
 
 But the fire ! the sad fire ! 
 
 Oh ! what shall be done ? 
 
 No Joshua remains, 
 
 To turn back the sun — 
 
 Exhausted the firemen. 
 
 The police the same, 
 
 Yet, still must they battle 
 
 The Demon of flame ; 
 
 "Which now, like an eagle. 
 
 With plumage of fire. 
 
 Unfolds its broad pinions — 
 
 Further and higher ; 
 
 While fast, to the rescue, 
 
 Great cities do send 
 
 Their engines, of power. 
 
 In vain to contend ; 
 
 For the fire rages on, 
 
THE FIRE AT CHICAGO. 
 
 For two days about, 
 
 On the shove^^of the lake. 
 
 At last to blow out. 
 
 And thus burnt Chicago, 
 
 PHhithd and t^rand, 
 Once the Queen of the Lakes, 
 
 And pride of the land; 
 A quarry of marble, 
 
 She 'rose from the soil ; 
 An offspring of beauty. 
 
 As well as of toil ; 
 And the sons, of her mart, 
 
 Were true to lier name ; 
 The fijrace of her daughters, 
 
 A part of her fame ; 
 She was prompt, to obey, 
 
 The Nation's command. 
 When war and dissension 
 
 Arose in the land. 
 And when Peace, thro' the elonds, 
 
 Sent forth her bright lighl, 
 She was first to forgive, 
 
 And cease from the fight. 
 
 But the woe, oh ! the woe I 
 
 The heart-rending woe ! 
 TTnto angels above, 
 
 And mortals below, 
 "When God, for a moment, 
 
 "Withholds his strong hand 
 "Which spans, e'en the heavens. 
 
 And covers the land. 
 "What right, then, to murmur, 
 
 If the s-teeds of the aiT 
 Be horsed, by the furies^ 
 
 And lashed by des-pair 2 
 If we, in our wisdom, 
 
 "With God, still contend 
 To rely on our arts — 
 
 The forces they lend. 
 
THE FIRE AT CHICAGO. 
 
 Chica2;o, this lesson, 
 
 In the hour of need, 
 May have written perchance, 
 
 For others to read ; 
 And thus warn them, anew, 
 
 Their steps to retrace, 
 By recalling the scene, 
 
 The tire did eiface 
 Of splendor, at sun-set, 
 
 Which into the lake 
 Reflected a city ; — 
 
 To-iuorrow to wake 
 Ko more vv^ith the prowess, 
 
 Attending the name. 
 Of Chicago, alas. 
 
 Now doomed to the fiame. 
 
 Like the Phenix, she ?oon 
 
 From the ashes, may rise 
 "With her breast, to the lake, 
 
 Anl her face, to the skies; 
 And the din, of her thrift, 
 
 O'er the sea and the land. 
 May, the homage of hearts 
 
 In the future, command ; 
 And the tears, we now shed, 
 
 In recounting:: her woes, 
 May be turned into joy, 
 
 As still upward she grows ; 
 But the lights and the shades. 
 
 Which shall gather sublime. 
 As sun-light and shadow, 
 
 On the pillars of time. 
 Will reilect, their sad light, 
 
 Through the vista of years 
 To the woes of this age, 
 
 Which appalling appears, 
 And with sadness, alas ! 
 
 They shall ever disclose 
 Tiie Fire at Chicago, 
 
 As the greatest of woes. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 020 994 164 8 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The author of this Poem, upon application 
 will deliver the same for the benefit of the 
 Chicago Relief Fund. 
 
 He is also the author of the following Occa- 
 sional Poems: "The Rock," "Nothing New," 
 "Decoration Day," ''Joe BroAvn, the Pioneer," 
 "The Rejected Stone," "Now and Then," "The 
 Old Settlers," "The Great Problem," and many 
 others of less note. ' 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 I liiiii Hill I III Mill Hill nil mil mil Mill nil! mil mi nii 
 
 020 994 164 8 ^