| July the fifth in fifty-two The ruffled clouds were tinged with blue Which truly told the practiced eye A thunderstorm was drawing nigh. At Barwick near to Aberford The distant sound at length was heard Of thunder sounding through the sky While fearful lightning quick did fly The storm rushed on with fearful pace With awful flashes in the chase The electric fluid struck the ground The terror spread on all around The children crept beneath the bed And some into their cellars fled Old men who'd never prayed before With hands uplifted from the floor Amidst their terror and alarm For mercy cried out in the storm And infidels, with one accord Said, certainly 'There is a God'. At the New Inn a party sat To put on time in harmless chat; The electric fire struck the place And marked awe on every face Some men were lifted to the door And others thrown upon the floor The hair was cut from one man's head The bed-poles smashed and fired the bed In that same house a cupboard stood Well filled with glass and china good The 'lectric shock destroyed them all And with great -force went through the wall In Towler's field it struck a steel And made the very house to reel At Thomas Robshaw's, then the bus man Certainly was much destruction The door was broke, ihe windows all The plaster torn from off the wall Part of the jaum was seen no more And one good lady on the floor. And yet she sweetly smiled for joy To find unhurt her darling boy, But as the storm raged o'er the town The wind-mill sails came rattling down And yet the worst remains to tell — A cheerful youth a victim fell The millers son, his aqe fifteen A brighter youth is Seldom seen Struck by the lightning's 'lectric flash Poor boy, he fell a lifeless mass And those who saw't will not forget' Yet for his fate let some regret - That providence, who gave him breath, Had sealed the moment of his death Let's hope he's numbered with the blest And that his soul is now at rest. |
Printed and Published by A. Mann, printer, Central Market, Leeds 1861 |