The Southern Scourge
The yellow fever was raging,
Down in the sunny south;
And in many of the cities,
There was a death at every house.
This plague a war was raging,
With the lives of people there;
The young and old were stricken down,
And lay in sad despair.
No comfort, all was misery
In many a southern home.
Where once was peace and quietness,
Now in distress are thrown;
For death the house has visited,
And caused the inmates to mourn
The loss of some dear loving friend,
That on earth no more shall roam.
Some people in delirium,
Have wandered from their home;
Have wandered to a vacant house,
And there have died alone,
With no kind friend to care for them,
Or close their dying eyes.
Oh God! in horrid misery
Hundreds of people died.
There were many whole families
Taken down sick in a day;
With no one to care for them,
In death they passed away.
Their spirits arose to God above,
Where sickness is no more;
Where peace and comfort ever reign,
On Heaven's blissful shore.
There is many a southern city
To-day is filled with woe,
And many of the inhabitants
Have wandered to and fro
To nurse the sick and dying --
The dead for the grave prepare.
They tried to do their duty,
With hearts filled with despair.
The Howard Association
Have been doing all they can,
To keep the "plague" from raging
Throughout the southern land;
They nursed the sick, they fed the poor,
They work both night and day,
This brave band in the southern scourge
Heroic courage display.
This noble band of charity
Have went from house to house,
To ease the sad misery of
The sufferers at the south;
Sad scenes of death and suffering
Each day they must endure,
As in the daily rounds they went
Among the afflicted poor.
The noble northern people
Have helped them all they can,
In money, food and clothing
Which they had at their command;
There is many a southern person
That will bless this Howard band,
For their noble deeds of charity
To the sufferers of their land.
The Great Chicago Fire
The great Chicago Fire, friends,
Will never be forgot;
In the history of Chicago
It will remain a darken spot.
It was a dreadful horrid sight
To see that City in flames;
But no human aid could save it,
For all skill was tried in vain.
In the year of 1871,
In October on the 8th,
The people in that City, then
Was full of life, and great.
Less than four days it lay in ruins,
That garden City, so great
Lay smouldering in ashes,
In a sad and pitiful state.
It was a sad, sad scene indeed,
To see the fire arise,
And hear the crackling of the flames
As it almost reached the skies,
And sadder still, to hear the moans,
Of people in the flames
Cry for help, and none could get,
Ah, die where they remained.
To see the people run for life;
Up and down the blazing streets,
To find then, their escape cut off
By the fiery flaming sheets,
And others hunting for some friend
That perhaps they never found,
Such weeping, wailing, never was known,
For a thousands miles around.
Some people were very wealthy
On the morning of the 10th.
But at the close of the evening,
Was poor, but felt content,
Glad to escape from harm with life
With friends they loved so well,
Some will try to gain more wisdom,
By the sad sight they beheld.
Five thousand people were homeless,
Sad wanderers in the streets,
With no shelter to cover them,
And no food had they to eat.
They wandered down by the lake side,
Lay down on the cold damp ground,
So tired and weary and homeless,
So the rich, the poor, was found.
Mothers with dear little infants,
Some clinging to the breast.
People of every description
All laid down there to rest,
With the sky as their covering,
Ah, pillows they had none.
Sad, oh sad, it must have been,
For those poor homeless ones.
Neighboring Cities sent comfort,
To the poor lone helpless ones,
And God will not forget them
In all the years to come.
Now the City of Chicago
Is built up anew once more,
And may it never be visited
With such a great fire no more.
