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The Poweshiek Skipper Project | |
| Lake Hawthorne ©Rayford
Ratcliff
Introduction Information about the butterfly
O.
poweshiek, Legacy butterfly Legacy
of Chief Poweshiek
H.W. Parker's writings Von Blixum's Heroic Experiment
Iowa's
biological diversity
The Poweshiek Skipper Project Goals
of the project
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H.W. Parker and His Writings The Removal The fiend had gone, and all was still In each affrighted hall and room; And moonlight lay on roof and hill-- A deathly smile across the gloom.
A grandame old had fled--a wound Her steps had tracked with dotting blood; Within the hall a man had swooned, And there a trembling maiden stood.
She had escaped the vengeful arm That smote a father, mother, child; And there she leaned in fixed alarm, And gazed around in horror wild.
A half-hushed cry was heard alone-- The wailing of a dying girl Who lay where firelight-flashes shone On lily cheek and flossy curl.
And were these all that filled the scene-- The living twain, the dying three? Ah, had we spirit-eyes, I ween There had been other sight to see.
The gloomy shadows of the night, The moonlight cold and pale and thin The stars above, the fading light Of feeble fire and lamp within--
Had all been lost in light and song-- The glory of a hidden world, And we had seen a gathering throng That stood with angel-pinions furled.
They stooped above the child--that host, And with them gazed two others there, Not pale and misty like a ghost, But as the angels bright and fair.
They were the spirits of the dead, In f lowing robes of glistening white, With circling halos round each head, And glancing wings of silver light.
They watched until the wailings ceased, And flame-like from the lifeless clay, The infant-spirit was released, Awakened to immortal day.
As birds shake off the spangled dew, And greet the dawn and cheerly sing, The infant to its parents flew With joyful flutter of the wing.
Then, hand in hand, they trod the air, And touched no more the sanguined floor; Nor is their presence heeded there, Nor needs their passage open door.
A parting glance at hallowed home They cast--their journey then begun, They mounted thro' the starry dome, And passed the last resplendent sun
Still up they floated, hand in hand-- It was a glorious sight to see! Around them still the flaming hand, With song and heavenly pageantry
At length, a glory met their sight, That mortal eye may not behold-- Broad gates of pearl, and spires of light, and long-drawn streets of lucid gold.
The reached at last the inmost space Where, on a lofty jasper throne, Sat One from whose unveiled face The earth and heavens may well have flown.
They stood amid the sun-like glow-- The child and parents in a band, And looked not up and bowed them low, With covered face and clasping hand.
They took no harp--no anthem sang, But knelt in humble silence there, And, (while the heavens with welcome rang,) For him who slew them, breathed a prayer. |