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WOES OF INTEMPERANCE. |
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19 C. M.
THE VICTIM.
1 HAND me the bowl, ye jovial band," He said, " 'twill rouse my mirth;" But conscience seized his trembling hand, And dash'd the cup to earth.
2. He look'd around, he blush'd, he laugh'd, He sipp'd the sparkling wave; In it he read, " who drinks this draught, Shall dig a murderer's grave!"
3 He started up like one from sleep
And trembled for his life; He gazed, he saw—his children weep, He saw his weeping wife.
4 In his deep dream he had not felt
Their agonies and fears; But now he saw them as they knelt, To plead with prayers and tears.
5 But the foul fiend, her hateful spell
Threw o'er his wildered mind, He saw in every hope a hell, He was to reason blind.
6 He grasp'd the bowl to seek relief;
No more his conscience said: His bosom friend was sunk in grief, His children begged for bread.
7 Through haunts of horror and of strife,
Ho pass'd down life's dark tide; He curs'd his beggar'd babes and wife ; He curs'd his God—and died .' |
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