A railway conductor who lost his life in an accident on a Connecticut <br />railway, May 9, 1873. <br /> <br /> <br />CONDUCTOR BRADLEY, (always may his name <br />Be said with reverence!) as the swift doom came, <br />Smitten to death, a crushed and mangled frame, <br /> <br />Sank, with the brake he grasped just where he stood <br />To do the utmost that a brave man could, <br />And die, if needful, as a true man should. <br /> <br />Men stooped above him; women dropped their tears <br />On that poor wreck beyond all hopes or fears, <br />Lost in the strength and glory of his years. <br /> <br />What heard they? Lo! the ghastly lips of pain, <br />Dead to all thought save duty's, moved again <br />'Put out the signals for the other train!' <br /> <br />No nobler utterance since the world began <br />From lips of saint or martyr ever ran, <br />Electric, through the sympathies of man. <br /> <br />Ah me! how poor and noteless seem to this <br />The sick-bed dramas of self-consciousness, <br />Our sensual fears of pain and hopes of bliss! <br /> <br />Oh, grand, supreme endeavor! Not in vain <br />That last brave act of failing tongue and brain <br />Freighted with life the downward rushing train, <br /> <br />Following the wrecked one, as wave follows wave, <br />Obeyed the warning which the dead lips gave. <br />Others he saved, himself he could not save. <br /> <br />Nay, the lost life was saved. He is not dead <br />Who in his record still the earth shall tread <br />With God's clear aureole shining round his head. <br /> <br />We bow as in the dust, with all our pride <br />Of virtue dwarfed the noble deed beside. <br />God give us grace to live as Bradley died!<br /><br />John Greenleaf Whittier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/conductor-bradley/
