At the annual conference, in eighteen fifty-four, I was called on a mission, new fields to explore, With twenty companions, young men bright and clean, With them Joseph F. Smith, a boy of fifteen, Manly, studious and faithful, keys to a life and career That has crowned him as President, Prophet and Seer. One night, sleeping with him on the isle of Maui(ee), At President Hammond's, 'neath a banana tree, I was wakened from slumber by Joseph's sharp cry-- A centipede stung him, in the core of the eye. The venomous reptile struck the tenderest part; The poison soon spread from the brain to the heart. How fearfully he suffered the rest of the night! It was feared, through our ignorance, he might lose his sight. Then the power of the priesthood came to our aid, By anointing and prayer the pain was allayed. My mission is ended, four years have slipped by-- Without purse or scrip, repentance I've cried; The will of the Father I've tried hard to do, And by doing, I know the gospel is true. Again, I have seen the dark clouds of strife Hang over our people, and threaten the lives Of Brigham, and Heber, and John Taylor, too, And all the brave spirits that to Joseph were true; But there's more union in Zion today Than was found in Nauvoo when they drove us away. We are nerved for the battle, and first on the program Is to burn up our homes, leave a desolate land-- Leave it barren and foodless, as when we first came; Not a tree, nor a shelter will we leave on the plain. Our wives and our children to the mountains must hie, Then we'll fight for our rights, for we fear not to die. The people responded with a hearty amen, For the spirit of freedom burned bright in our glens; Then wagons and horses, men and women, with carts, Form in squads and battalions; for Sonora they start; For three hundred miles, from Logan to Cedar, A moving, human stream, without captain or leader, For the light of the prophets was shining so bright That the humblest pedestrian could see its bright light. But He, who moves in curious ways, his wonders to perform, Accepted the offered sacrifice, and calmed the rising storm. Today, Zion's cities are the wonder of the world, And a temple of beauty stands where our banner is unfurled; And on the waste, where, as a boy, I herded cows and sheep, Now twice a year, the Saints of God in solemn conference meet. And many strangers yearly come our temple to behold, And go away, and often say, "The half has not been told." These are the scenes that many years have brought into my view, And I testify, with soberness, the words I speak are true; And to my wives and children dear, who cluster round my hearth, I say, with tears of happiness, I'm glad I had a birth.