Emma Hale

He brought the storms and dust a temperment
and had an air of eloquence, and underneath,
well who could say? Slept beneath the stars
at night, the moon so bright, the vision white;
all who knew him swooned or swayed
or ran away.

Restoration to the earlier ways of the Lord,
restorations to the teeming hordes
no one in that dustbowl managed to move on,
without a trace of Joseph upon them.
No one who left did come again;
they'd left in sin.

Now some say mason blood did fill those gritty
veins of Chapel Hill. An' people they still search
for holy things. In shafts of light,
warm summer nights... Sealings before the
nose of Light. Burying her first child, Emma Hale
gave her life over to His goodness and failed.

Oh oh oh, poor, oh poor, poor Emma Hale.