Poem by Florence Earle Coates

By the Conemaugh

        (MAY 31, 1889)

Foreboding sudden of untoward change,
     A tight'ning clasp on everything held dear,
A moan of waters wild and strange,
     A whelming horror near;
And, midst the thund’rous din a voice of doom,—
"Make way for me, O Life, for Death make room!

"I come like the whirlwind rude,
     'Gainst all thou hast cherished warring;
I come like the flaming flood
     From a crater's mouth outpouring;
I come like the avalanche gliding free;
And the Power that sent thee forth, sends me!

"Where thou hast builded with strength secure
     My hand shall spread disaster;
Where thou hast barr'd me, with forethought sure,
     Shall ruin flow the faster;
I come to gather where thou hast sowed,—
But I claim of thee nothing thou hast not owed!

"On my mission of mercy forth I go
     Where the Lord of Being sends me;
His will is the only will I know,
     And my strength is the strength He lends me;
Thy loved ones I hide 'neath my waters dim,
But I cannot hide them away from Him!"

1. Let Me Believe
2. First and Last
3. To the Tsar (1890)
4. Love Sailed at Morn
5. Cora

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