ORIGINAL POETRY. THE DRUNKARD.

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 128, 21 July 1870, Page 7

ORIGINAL POETRY. THE DRUNKARD.

Behold yon man that staggers through the street, With downcast look and hollow sunken eyes, Jn torn and tattered rags and shoeless feet, Though wintry winds howl wildly through the skies. But, ah ! let none this seeming wretch despise. What he is now, he has not always heen ; But once companion of the good and wise, Until temptations strong did intervene, vLed him from virtue into vice's paths obscene, n. Yes, once he was a bright and guileless boy, Ere drink had yet its ba.neful influence shed On life's fair prospects. Every hope and joy Of life were his. Alas, but they have fled ! Now friendless, homeless, with affections dead, He wanders through this weary world alone — By that dark soul-destroying demon led, Who has no pity, even for his own Obedient slaves, though served with many a groan. in. Oh ! wretched is that poor deluded man Who seeks relief from sorrow, grief and care In wine's seductive power ! It never can But lead to misery and dark despair. "Oh ! may the young and innojcent beware, Nor ever think enjoyment can be found Where merry Bacchus' noisy victims share Their short-lived pleasure while the plass goes round. False, fleeting joys, ending in grief the most profound. IV. The revel past : upon a bed of p^in The drunkard wakes to fear, remoi-se and shame ; With parched throat, and dizzy, fevered brain, He turns in agony his aching frame. All ! thinks he then on the exciting game Of cards, of dice, or of the jovial song 1 All, no ; he thinks upon a ruined name ; And years misspent upon his memory throng, And scenes, aud friends of youth, beloved and cherished long. v. Ye friends to man, to liberty and truth, Can nought be done this horrid vice to quell That leads to ruin unsuspecting youth, And spreads on earth the miserieSjOf hell ? See red-armed murder in his gloomy cell ; See ragged poverty, so pale and wan ; And hark ! the maniac's despairing yell. Thus has it been since first the world began, And these the fearful ends to which it urges man. Jaques. Dunedin.