New York Dispatch

The Rescue Of B.
I saw the city's terror,
I heard the city's cry,
As a flame leaped out of her bosom
Up, up to the brazen sky!
And wilder rose the tumult,
And thicker the tidings came
Chicago, queen of the cities,
Was a rolling sea of flame!
Yet higher rose the fury
And louder the surges rave
(Thousands were saved but to suffer
And hundreds never were saved)
Till out of the awful burning
A flash of lightning
As across to brave
St. Louis went
The prayer for succor was sent.
God bless thee, O true Saint Louis
Quick on the lightning
So worthy thy royal name—
Thy answer of rescue came;
But alas! it could not enter
Through the horrible flame and heat
For fire had conquered the lightning,
And sat in the Thunderer's seat!
God bless thee again, Saint Louis!
For resting never then,
Thou calledst to all the cities
By lightning and steam and pen,
"Ho, ho, ye hundred sisters,
Stand forth in your bravest might!
Our sister in flame is falling,
Her children are dying to-night!"
And through the mighty Republic
Thy summons went rolling on,
Till it rippled the seas of the tropics,
And ruffled the Oregon.
The distant Golden City
Called through her golden gates,
And quickly rung the answer
From the City of the Straits;
And the cities that sit in splendor
Along the Atlantic Sea,
Replying called to the dwellers
Where the proud magnolias be.
From slumber the army started
At the far-resounding call,
"Food for a hundred thousand,"
They shouted, "and tents for all."
I heard through the next night's darkness
The trains go thundering by
Till they stood where the fated city
Shone red in the brazen sky.
The rich gave their abundance,
The poor their willing hands;
There was wine from all the vineyards,
There was corn from all the lands.
At daybreak over the prairies
Re-echoed the gladsome cry—
"Ho, look unto us, ye thousands,
Ye shall not hunger and die!"
Their weeping was all the answer
That the famishing throng could give,
To the million voices calling,
"Look unto us, and live!"
Destruction wasted the city,
But the burning curse that came
Enkindled in all the people
Sweet charity's holy flame.
Then still to our God be glory!
I bless Him, through my tears,
That I live in the grandest nation
That hath stood in all the years.
Detroit Commercial Advertiser.