IN MEMORIUM, JULY 24, 1915
By a Survivor

Eagerly, onward we hurried
A gay, happy, holiday throng,
To catch the first boat was out effort,
While anxiously trudging along.
" 'Tis filled: We are going to miss it."
"Oh, no, they'll take on a few more."
And down the white plank we went gliding
Precious, human freight from the shore.

All aboard: Above the gay chatter
We heard the deep ominous call.
For the last mysterious journey
We're aboard, - God pity us all!
A few precious moments we stood there,
Busy talking or clasping a hand,
While smiling some one was speaking
These words: "We will meet when we land."

Shall we meet when we land, I wonder?
I hope so, my friend, bye and bye:
You were swallowed up in the struggle,
I was grasped when ready to die.
O'er the bust scene at the harbor
Rose a cry from a thousand throats,
The agonized shrieks of the dying
And the sobs from out sister-boats.

Dear bereaved, take heart in your sorrow,
Tho' the load is heavy to-day,
You will meet again some to-morrow,
They have gone just over the way,
May our lives be nobler and better
For this dark, bitter hour of pain.
Take heart, my dear friend in the dawning
We shall meet out loved ones again.

Ida O. Anderson, Hawthorne July 27, 1915 .