The Poetry Corner

Description Of A Conflagration

By Thomas Oldham

'Tis night: the busy, ceaseless noise of day No more is heard; the now-deserted-streets Lie dark and silent; London's weary swarms Rest in profound repose. Hark! a loud cry Frightens the silence; 'tis the cry of fire! I hear the dissonance of rattling wheels, The tread of hasty feet, the doleful sigh Of sympathy, and terror's thrilling shriek: O mercy heaven! Behold the fiery Pest! See, how the flames climb up the lofty walls, Involve their prey, and greedily devour: The crowd exert their efforts to controul The spreading bane; some labour to supply The numerous engines; others bear aloft The pliant tubes, guiding their watery store Amid the fiercer fire; on ladders some Ascending, scale the walls, and undeterr'd, Their dangerous office ply; some wildly haste To save their properties: 'tis bustle all, And noisy tumult. Doubtful for a time The strife remains; where'er the Burning winds His flamy spires, the well-directed streams, Incessant spouting, damp the sickening flames, Repelling their advance; but, oft repulsed, As oft they rally with recruited strength: Alternate in the mind rise hope and fear. Tumbles a roof with clattering noise, the sky Lightens, a burst of clamour! all is hush'd In awful stillness, save that from beneath The ruins fall'n is heard a muttering sound, As if the Demon of the element In indignation menaced dire revenge. Ah! now, unchain'd by some mysterious Power, Some Fiend of air, in league with That of fire, The wind begins to howl; its breath awakes The sleepy flames; loud and more loud it howls, And rushes on them with collected might; Before the driving spirit burst the flames In a redoubled tempest, and deride Opposing man. See! how they proudly toss Their many heads on high, and through the vault Of darkness fling a sad, malignant day: Look! with what fury, what resistless rage, From street to street the fiery Deluge pours His rapid billows, swallowing everything In horrible destruction; lowly roofs, And gorgeous mansions, lofty spires and domes Capacious, on whose fair, majestic tops, As on her throne exalted, Art assumed Her noblest honours, whose firm pillars braved Storms, and the still-corroding course of years; These, these with all their wealth, the various stores Of luxury and commerce, to the flames Abandon'd, sink an undefended prey, Swelling the general wreck; unheeded sink By their possessors, flying for their lives: Cries, groans, laments, on every side resound. Sudden a magazine of nitrous grain Bursts in a blazing column to the clouds; The dread explosion shakes the solid ground, And through the skies in lengthening thunder rolls: Driven by the furious overwhelming blast To distance round, the burning fragments fall On every side; see, see, yon ships catch fire, Their rigging's in a blaze; affrighted Thames Shrinks from the sight; his waters cast a gleam Portentous, dismal, like the light of hell. Before the Conflagration numbers fly Frighted, in throngs precipitate, to seek A refuge in the distant fields secure, Which, cover'd thick with victims of distress, Present a wretched world. There Youth, surprised By hard experience, learns, alas! too soon The destiny of Man; and from those eyes Where expectation and unclouded joy Serenely shone, the streams of sorrow flow: There helpless Age, robb'd of the scanty means A life of labour earn'd, driven from his home To wander, destitute, the vale of years, Yields to despondence, tears his hoary locks, Falls on the ground, and eagerly implores Rest in the grave: there, gazing on the fires, The tender Mother stands, her frenzied soul Glares from her look, her bosom heaves a groan, She hugs her crying infant to her heart, Despairing, lost: what countless forms of wo! Lethargic some, and mute; some, giving loose To their distracted feelings, rave aloud In all the clamorous vehemence of grief. The din subsides; a voice, distinctly heard, A frantic voice exclaims, my child! my child! My child is in the flames! Oh! horrible! What succour? what resource? the roaring wind More fiercely blows, the Burning pours along, The skies are lighten'd, Uproar opens wide His thousand mouths, Danger and Ruin prowl At large with boundless license, all is doubt And consternation, one tempestuous sea Of wretchedness, one chaos of despair. Seized with wild fear Imagination sees The elements broke loose, Time on the brink Of dread Eternity, with all the signs Of that tremendous period when the dead Shall rise to judgment hush'd in solemn awe Listening the trump of doom. Thus raged the storm, Till the great God of heaven in mercy bade The wind be silent, bade the gathering clouds Pour down abundant rain; the raging Fires, In prompt obedience to the sovereign will Of their Creator, dwindled and expired.