To Elder John Taylor

Thou Chieftain of Zion! henceforward thy name When around you like hailstones, the rifle balls flew-

Will be class'd with the martyrs and share in their fame; When the passage of death open'd wide to your view-

Thro' ages eternal, of thee will be said, When the prophet's freed spirit, thro' martyrdom fled,

'WITH THE GREATEST OF PROPHETS HE SUFFER'D AND BLED. In your gore you lay welt'ring-with martyrs you

BLED.

When the shafts of injustice were pointed at HIM- All the SCARS from your WOUNDS, like the trophies of yore

When the cup of his suff'ring was filled to the brim- Shall be ensigns of honor till you are no more;

When his innocent blood was inhumanely shed, And by all generations, of thee shall be said

You shared his afflictions and with him you BLED. 'WITH THE REST OF THE PROPHETS, IN PRISON HE BLED.

July 27, 1844.