| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
The Mormon Bishop's Lament
No more the blood atonements keep the doubting
one in fear, While the faithful were rewarded with a wedding
once a year.
As the nation's chieftain president says our days of
rule are o'er And his marshals with their warrants are on watch
at every door, Old John he now goes skulking on the by-roads of
our land, Or unknown he keeps in hiding with the faithful of
our band.
Old Brigham now is stretched beneath the cold and
silent clay, And the chieftains now are fallen that were mighty
in their day; Of the six and twenty women that I wedded long
ago There are two now left to cheer me in these awful
hours of woe. The rest are scattered where the Gentile's flag's
unfurled And two score of my daughters are now numbered
with the world."
Oh, my poor old bones are aching and my head is turning gray; |
||
|
49 |
||