Issue 13 and Volume 1881 8.

THE FIREMAN’S SONG. In the midwatch of the night, When the tongue of the booming bell Sounds alarm, and flames burst on the sight, The Fire-King’s deeds to tell, A sound on the ear doth fall, That is borne on the heated blast, ‘Tis the cheering note of the Fireman’s call, As the engines rumble past. The flames illume the sky, And, wrapt in a blazing wreath, Our df ar-lovcd homes are shown to the eye, As the revel place of Death. And above the blasting gale, List to those piteous cries ! Tis the sound of an infant’s feeble wail, Amid blazing ruin dies. But see! there’s a rescue near, For from that countless mass, While cheeks are bleached, hearts rent with fear, See the noble Firemen pass! He mounts the toppling stairs, While the red flames fiercely dart, And the child from the funeral pyre he bears To…

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