"Cumorahs' Treasure"

Here is the wonderful poem written by Milli Packard in my ward. She is allowing me to share it...

"Cumorah's Treasure"

From the summit of Cumorah
Came the warning trumpet strain
Heralding the last great battle,
One that left a people slain.

Mormon led these faithless Nephites,
Though without the strength of God,
For the wickedness unequaled
They had spurned the Iron Rod.

Now they saw the foe advancing;
Now they knew that death was near,
And the breasts of all the wicked
Trembled with their guilty fear.

Great and marvelous the destruction
Of the Nephites on that day.
'Twas the hand of God had done it:
Vengeance his, he did repay.

Few survived to view the carnage
From Cumorah's top next morn.
There among that four and twenty,
Mormon cried, with anguish torn,

"O ye fair ones, O ye fair ones,
How could ye reject your Lord!
But my sorrow bringeth nothing:
God hath kept his warning word."

Thus the foe destroyed the Nephites,
As the dew before the sun.
One was left to tell the story:
Young Moroni, Mormon's son.

One and twenty years he wandered,
Hiding, writing, all alone;
Then he hid the precious record
Underneath the rounded stone.

'Twas a record of great value
Hidden in Cumorah's sod;
Now it shines forth out of darkness
By the power of our Gad;

For to Israel's scattered remnant
Is the promise now fulfilled
That the voices of their fathers
Should cry truth, as God had willed.

To a young boy humbly kneeling
Came the Father and the Son;
Face to face they spoke together:
Joseph was the chosen one.

Then from heaven came Moroni,
Telling where the record lay
Which contained the gospel's fullness,
Saved to bless this latter day.

Thus we have Cumorah's Treasure,
Though great lives were sacrificed,
For the gospel's restoration
In The Church of Jesus Christ.

- Mildred West Wiseman Packard
(C) Copyright 1952/2005