Can you forget when first you Salt Lak^e^ saw
Your hopes ran high—yor bosom heaved with awe
The Prophet Brigham in your carriage lay
You loved him well, You'll not forget the day

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

We grew and prospered in these desert lands
We sought and strove to keep the Lords comm[an]ds
Unnumberd blessings to the Saints were given
Shower'd by the beounteous hand of Heaven
Again our foes relentless—sought us out
And counted all our former trials nought
They wanted all, they wanted Brighams Life
They sought by Every means to stir up strife
They put our Prophet in the felons cell
You saw their acts you do remember still
The anquish of that hour, You posted men
Your pickets slumber'd not—Twas Godlike to defend
Our Noble Chief—But now he rests in peace
And Demons Howl and gnash their torments never cease
From then till now the toll has not been much
They're seeking still to grasp—unhallow'd touch
And rend Gods Kingdom—but alas tis vain
The crisis has not come—we'll conquer them again
We hail you then, though fugitive you be
From injustice, malice chains and Misery
A Prisioner with your friends Long may you live
See Zion triumph and the day of Peace arive
March 1, 1879 Your fellow servant W^M^ F Farnsworth

Can you forget when first you Salt Lake saw Your hopes ran high— your bosom heaved with awe The Prophet Brigham in your carriage lay You loved him well, You'll not forget the day

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

We grew and prospered in these desert lands We sought and strove to keep the Lords commands Unnumbered blessings to the saints were given Shower'd by the beounteous hand of Heaven Again our foes relentless— sought us out And counted all our former trials nought They wanted all, they wanted Brighams Life They sought by Every means to stir up strife They put our Prophet in the felons cell You saw their acts you do remember still The anquish of that hour, You posted men Your pickets slumber'd not— Twas God like to defend Our Noble Chief— But now he rests in peace And Demons Howl and gnash their torments never cease From then till now the toll has not been much They're seeking still to grasp— unhallow'd & touch And rend Gods Kingdom— but alas tis vain The Crisis has not come— We'll conquer them again We hail you then, though fugitive you be From injustice, malice chains and Misery A Prisioner with your friends Long may you live See Zion triumph and the day of Peace arive March 1, 1879 Your fellow servant W F Farnsworth