by J. Randal Matheny © 2011
I know the sickening feeling well,
On seeing heavy tides and tows,
That pull the faithful out to hell,
By sweet caresses, not by blows.
Whole towns and churches carried out,
Where none can reach and none can save,
To easy error fast devout,
Are sucked beneath the deceiving wave.
The sight of happy, bobbing heads,
By thousands, swept to meet their doom,
To warnings deaf — no panic spreads —
Dismays as death and suffering loom.
No sight more horrid, these seaward rolls,
Not even when walls and towers fell,
There’s more than lives to lose, but souls —
I know this sickening feeling well.