Here's a poem about the burning of the Connahaynee Lodge.
Mountains, sky, field and rocks
Timbers and nails, woolen socks
Paths and trails, blazes on trees
guests reveled in nature’s breeze.
Darkness fell, an early night
Barn owls called to hunt at night
Bears retreated, asleep ‘til spring
Scarce to eat, no wasted thing
Valley, dale, spur and draw
Snowflakes whirled until the thaw
Then fires roared beside the brick
Too hot to handle and spread too quick
Chestnut logs burned that night
The guests all fled in urgent flight
The Colonel’s dream was now no more
The Lodge burned down unto the floor
Mountains, sky, field and doom
A vaulted chimney upon a tomb
The fires are gone, but the past won’t stop
beneath the trees of Burrell Top
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