CHARLESTON, SEPTEMBER 1, 1886

An hour ago the lulling twilight leant

Above us like a gentle nurse who slips

A slow palm o'er our eyes, in soft eclipse

Of feigned slumber of most sweet content.

The fragrant zephyrs of the tropic went

And came across the senses, like to sips

Of lovers’ kisses, when upon her lips

Silence sets finger in grave merriment.

Then — sudden — did the earth moan as it slept,

And start as one in evil dreams, and toss

Its peopled arms up, as the horror crept,

And with vast breast upheaved and rent across,

Fling down the storied citadel where wept,

And still shall weep, a world above its loss.