Here you will find the Poem The Southern Scourge of poet Julia A Moore
The yellow fever was raging, Down in the sunny south; And in many of the cities, There was a death at every house. This plague a war was raging, With the lives of people there; The young and old were stricken down, And lay in sad despair. No comfort, all was misery In many a southern home. Where once was peace and quietness, Now in distress are thrown; For death the house has visited, And caused the inmates to mourn The loss of some dear loving friend, That on earth no more shall roam. Some people in delirium, Have wandered from their home; Have wandered to a vacant house, And there have died alone, With no kind friend to care for them, Or close their dying eyes. Oh God! in horrid misery Hundreds of people died. There were many whole families Taken down sick in a day; With no one to care for them, In death they passed away. Their spirits arose to God above, Where sickness is no more; Where peace and comfort ever reign, On Heaven's blissful shore. There is many a southern city To-day is filled with woe, And many of the inhabitants Have wandered to and fro To nurse the sick and dying -- The dead for the grave prepare. They tried to do their duty, With hearts filled with despair. The Howard Association Have been doing all they can, To keep the "plague" from raging Throughout the southern land; They nursed the sick, they fed the poor, They work both night and day, This brave band in the southern scourge Heroic courage display. This noble band of charity Have went from house to house, To ease the sad misery of The sufferers at the south; Sad scenes of death and suffering Each day they must endure, As in the daily rounds they went Among the afflicted poor. The noble northern people Have helped them all they can, In money, food and clothing Which they had at their command; There is many a southern person That will bless this Howard band, For their noble deeds of charity To the sufferers of their land.