THE WINDOWS of Heaven were open wide, | |
| The storm cloud broke, and the people cried | |
| Will Conemaugh dam hold out? | |
| But the great folks down at Johnstown played, | |
| They ate, they drank, they were nought afraid, | 5 |
| For Conemaugh dam holds Conemaugh lake, | |
| By Conemaugh dam their pleasure they take, | |
| Fine catching are Conemaugh trout. | |
| |
| The four mile lake at the back of its wall | |
| Is growing to five, and the rains still fall, | 10 |
| And the flood by night and by day | |
| Is burrowing deep thro’ buttress and mound, | |
| Fresh waters spring and spurt from the ground; | |
| While God is thundering out of His cloud | |
| The fountain voices are crying aloud, | 15 |
| Away to the hills! away! | |
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| Away to the hills! leave altar and shrine, | |
| Away to the hills! leave table and wine, | |
| Away from the trade and your tills; | |
| Let the strong man speed with the weakest child, | 20 |
| And the mother who just on her babe has smiled | |
| Be carried, leave only the dead on their biers, | |
| No time for the tomb, and no time for tears; | |
| Away, away to the hills! | |
| |
| Daniel Periton heard the wail | 25 |
| Of the waters gathering over the vale, | |
| With sorrow for city and field,— | |
| Felt already the mountain quake | |
| ’Twixt living and dead. For the brethren’s sake | |
| Daniel Periton dared to ride | 30 |
| Full in front of the threatening tide, | |
| And what if the dam do yield? | |
| |
| To a man it is given but once to die, | |
| Though the flood break forth he will raise his cry | |
| For the thousands there in the town. | 35 |
| At least, some child may be saved by his voice, | |
| Some lover may still in the sun rejoice, | |
| Some man that has fled, when he wins his breath, | |
| Shall bless the rider who rode thro’ death, | |
| For his fellows’ life gave his own. | 40 |
| |
| He leapt to his horse that was black as night, | |
| He turned not left and he turned not right, | |
| Down to the valley he dashed; | |
| He heard behind him a thunderous boom, | |
| The dam had burst and he knew his doom; | 45 |
| “Fly, fly for your lives!” it was all he spoke, | |
| “Fly, fly, for the Conemaugh dam has broke!” | |
| And the cataract after him crashed. | |
| |
| They saw a man with the God in his face, | |
| Pale from the desperate whirlwind pace, | 50 |
| They heard an angel cry. | |
| And the steed’s black mane was flecked as he flew, | |
| And its flanks were red with the spur’s red dew, | |
| Into the city and out of the gate, | |
| Rider and ridden were racing with fate, | 55 |
| Wild with one agony. | |
| |
| “Flash on the news that the dam has burst,” | |
| And one looked forth, and she knew the worst, | |
| “My last message!” she said. | |
| The words at her will flashed on before | 60 |
| Periton’s call and the torrent’s roar; | |
| And not in vain had Periton cried, | |
| His heart had caught a brave heart to his side, | |
| As bold for the saving he sped. | |
| |
| The flood came down and its strong arms took | 65 |
| The city, and all together shook, | |
| Tower and church and street, | |
| Like a pack of cards that a player may crush, | |
| The houses fell in the whirlpool rush, | |
| Rose and floated and jammed at the last, | 70 |
| Then a fierce flame fed by the deluge blast | |
| Wove them a winding sheet. | |
| |
| God have mercy! was ever a pyre | |
| Lit like that of the flood’s fierce fire! | |
| Cattle and men caught fast, | 75 |
| Prisoners held between life and death, | |
| While the flame struck down with its sulphurous breath, | |
| And the flood struck up with its strong, cold hand, | |
| No hope from the water, no help from the land, | |
| And the torrent thundering past! | 80 |
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| Daniel Periton, still he rides, | |
| By the heaving flank and the shortening strides, | |
| The race must be well-nigh won. | |
| “Away to the hills!” but the cataract’s bound | |
| Has caught and has dashed him from saddle to ground,— | 85 |
| And the man who saw the end of the race, | |
| Saw a dark, dead horse, and a pale dead face, | |
| Did they hear Heaven’s great “Well done?” | |
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