Page:Poems Merrill.djvu/83

And why that shrill voice shouting
 As if in dire alarm—
Did'st know 'twas misdemeanor
 To break the Sabbath calm?—

As onward sped the herald.
 With face the hue of death
And wild-bright eyes, an instant
 He paused to regain breath,—

Then quick, in tones reverberant
 That pealed from spire to spire
Rang out the cry of terror:—
 "The mill! The mill's on fire!"

(Thro' the surrounding valley,
 And o'er adjacent hill;
The echoes oft repeated:—
 "There's fire in the mill!")

Amazed were all the people—
 No word their lips could frame
As on the breeze's soft pinions
 Again the wild cries came:—