Poetry

To My Brother in Prison
“Oh justice! Thou art fled to brutish beasts.”

Dear beloved brother Parley,
Honest, faithful, kind and true,
Why on this, our nation’s birthday,
Do they still imprison you?

Is it that my native country,
Once a land of liberty
‘Neath the tyrant’s power has fallen—
Are her sons no longer free?

One great “Mormon” bard has written,
“Indian, Moslem, Greek or Jew,
All your shackles burst asunder,
Freedom’s banner waves for you.”

Brother, in the gloomy prison,
As our father in his youth,
Once did suffer persecution—
Suffered for the cause of truth—

You are now the persecuted.
Courage, brother, God is just.
You will surely be delivered,
If in Him you put your trust.

May the power of God, Who aided
Father in his darkest day,
Bless his son with cheer and comfort—
Bless him on his weary way.

When they tell me in my letters
You are feeble, often ill,
How my heart is touched with sorrow—
Gladly I your place would fill.

Proud I am that you ne’er cowered
When the judge in taunting term,
Poured his wrath and spite upon you;
Proud, because you stood so firm.

Kindest love to Brother Angus,
Brother A.M. Musser too;
Brothers Clawson, Watson, Evans,
All who stood so firm and true.

Honest hearts are humbly praying,
Night and morning, every day,
For our faithful friends in bondage
Many thousand miles away.

Moroni L. Pratt

[Journal History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, July 4, 1885, 18]
[Millennial Star, July 20, 1885, 461]

[transcribed and proofread by David Grow, Apr. 2006]

-End-

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