Lines, Written on the Death of Gen. Don Carlos Smith

By Miss E. R. Snow.

"Thy shaft flew thrice and thrice my peace was slain."

Th' insatiate archer, Death, once more

Has bath'd his shaft in human gore!

The pale fac'd monarch's crimson'd bow, Ours, is the sorrow-ours the loss!

Once more has laid a good man low! For thro' the triumphs of the Cross,

His noble part by death set free,

If tears of love could ever save On wings of immortality;

A noble victim from the grave- Tracing the steps the Savior trod,

If strong affection e'er had power Has reach'd the paradise of God.

To rescue in the dying hour- There he rejoins the ransom'd choir-

If kindred sympathy could hold There, there he hails his noble sire,

A jewel in its sacred fold- A Patriarch of these latter-days,

If friendship could produce a charm Whose goodness, mem'ry loves to trace

The heartless tyrant to disarm- With rev'rence, grattitude [gratitude] and love:

If wide acknowledg'd worth could be He left us for the courts above.

A screen from mortal destiny- There, with the Spirits of the just,

If pure integrity of heart Where Zion's welfare is discuss'd

Could baffle death's malignant dart- Once more, their kindred spirits join-

If usefulness and noble zeal- Once more, their efforts to combine

Devotedness to Zion's weal- In Zion's cause.-And shall we mourn

A conduct grac'd with purpos'd aim- For those who have been upward borne?

A reputation free from blame, And shall the "Legion's: sorrow flow:

Could save a mortal from the tomb, As if a Chieftain were laid low;

And stamp with an eternal bloom; Who threw his frail escutcheon by,

He never would have bow'd to death, To join the Legion form'd on high?

Or yielded up his mortal breath. Yes, mourn:-the loss is great to earth-

A loss of high exalted worth!

City of Nauvoo, Aug. 81h, 1841.