Still, hope's star-beacon lures the toilers on,
And with stout hearts and mercy sinewed arms,
They, toiling, dig, if haply they may save
But one poor soul from out the piteous heap.
But as they worked, their honest hearts elate
With love-inspiring toil, Oh, sad to tell!
Another mass, far larger than the last,
Fell from the dark flood-loosened mountain side,
Burying those noble men beneath the deep
Dank heap, like those they fondly hoped to save.

O noble band! thy Christ-like heroism
Shall be enshrined in deathless memories
Outliving time; for rolling ages love
To chronicle the history of brave deeds,
That spur by their example other minds
To acts of heroism such as thine!

Oh! fearful was that avalanche of earth,
That in its fury, e'en with lightning speed,
Swept to eternity such precious freight!
Strong men in the proud glory of life's prime,
Women in joyful trustfulness of love
With little children in full bloom of life;
All in the twinkling of an eye cut down,
In that rude harvest of the tyrant Death!

Now the late lovely valley, Naini Tal
Stands as a witness of the frailty
Of human strength 'gainst the o'erwhelming might