Mr Satan at Home, A SATIRE WITH A MORAL. WRITTEN EXPRESSLY FOR THE WAIKATO TIMES CANTO THIRD.

Waikato Times, Volume X, Issue 537, 28 October 1875, Page 2

Mr Satan at Home, A SATIRE WITH A MORAL. WRITTEN EXPRESSLY FOR THE WAIKATO TIMES

CANTO THIRD.

\Tn this Canto mir Special Reporter fulfils his promise by inculcating £ertain moral " lessons, which will doubtless be studied Unth much profit and advantage by thereadcr.~\ " And now " said my host, ** let me act as your guide," And I followed him straight through a corridor wide, With numberless cells on. either side. t We stopped, and he said, with a serious face, i " This is number eighteen, a very bad .ease." "Some Sikes" I muttered, "savage and bold, With a bull-dog jaw and a wolfish eye, Or, perchance, a wretch of the Fagin mould I Cowardly, cruel, and sly." i A tail spare man, a. brow severe, Deep sunken eyes, a. mouth austere, A forehead seamed with years and care, And ions; straight locks of grizzled hair. As Satan gazed the iron bare through, Says he '* Good day, sir, how d'ye do," Then turned to me, " Sir, there you .sea A man who lived in luxury, Who rich in lands and untold wealth And millions hoarded up by stealth* Who robbed the widow and the poor, And turned the beggar from his door ; Who dealt in mines, and bonds, and stock, Whose- heart was hard as granite rock. For years he hoarded, pinched, and screwed, Denied himself c'en common food, Then when old age came creeping on, And all the fire of youth was gone He looked upon a wasted life, Nor home, nor friend, nor child* nor wife To cheer his iast declining hours, And strew his gloomy path with flowers/ He olied, a lonely cheerless death, While strangers watched his latest breath, To grasp the fruits of avarice, And waste in riot and in vice. 3o runs tke tale while life skill last, S® mortals toil till youth be passed, . . So Death steps in with silent stealth To snatch tke miser from his wealth, So gathers one, another sows, — The ceaseless cycle onward flows." Weighing the words he had dropped, I silently followed my quide — , Till,, at length again we stopped At a cell on the opposite side. I looked and saw a stately dame Had meetly worn a noble name, If wondrous grace Of form and face May tojken be of lordly race. Then round I turned to my sombre guide, fn cynic silence smiling near, " This lovely lady," I wildly cried, This pdftnpered darling of wealth and pride, Oh, what is she d<3img here }_ I sought for a villaia of murderous look, The desperate chief of an outlaw band, Who gave his life for the life he took, And died by the hangman's hand. > I sought for a woman-r-ah, burning shame, That I still must call her by woman's name ! A wrebeh, in tawdry rags arrayed With painted cheek aad wanton eye, Who plied in the streets her loathsome *rade And lured to sin the passers by ; I see instead, a dame serene — This hard, hard riddle, oh, what does it mean ¥' A fight across his features l?roke ] And thus, in tremulous tones he spofce : — ■'< 44 Oh, men by bigot pride betrayed, Who stop your ears and sh,ut your sight, And deem the darkness ye have made The noonday Maze of God's own light, Grope in your midnight,, blinded men, Ye cajinot dim your Maker's ken. Ye judge, nor in your judgment weigh ! That all compelling iron power, That presses on you day by day, That shapes your lives from hour to hour, That fixed fate, which ye call chance, That mystery of circumstance. Ye Pharisees, whoso lofty place, Secure above temptation stands. Ye kneel with sanctimonious face And thank your God with outstretched Tiands, « I am not like my brother man, This fallen, sin-stained Publican." Upon your mother's breast you lay, A blood-bought child, an heir of love ; She taught your baby lips to pray, She winged your infant thoughts above. And hovered o'er your dawning years With tender hope, whose voice was tear*. That other — crime, the milk he drew, His earliest words a curse and lie ; A father here he never kne>v, He never heard of One on Mgh ; He felt the hunger gnaw his breast, And stole to ease it — like the rest; And so he griew in years and crime, Cursed with the deadly curse of life, And, in the due appointed time, He plieii the midnight murdererVknife. Ye hanged him, and our cleric friend Pointed a moral from his end.

And then, for her, the haplea* maid, Who undgr sore : . Her trustinfjnjnocenctf fcetrayed, Her fatal faulfi~-shejoved^o well— Ah, stainless ladies, woijld that ye Were in the ssr»t pure as she ! Oh God, her tears, her heart-wrung fears, Her tears that fell by morn and night I <• Pity my love, my childish years, . Pity, and lead.me^to t^p light;, A poor lost lamb, with many a stain, Lord, take me to Thy fold again." And He looked down, with sweet sad eyes, - - And-olothed her i» his mercy strongs But, ladies, ye are pure and wise, And cannot feel for maids gone wrong • Ye, in your virtue stooji apa#, ' And despeMiou^sefze&fJ^b^wk And so she went the ol<S; old wa£, } And wandered oa from - While fainter whispered every day, , The voice of womanfojo^'withln. The deepest dep,% of shame «^o • 3he died— « oh,- l§ftVd;h|r to, her, Qo^» ' Here myconducior ;^sl^om^ si|)i»-of weariness - \ "^£-$l, & ''•,-• And said, " Excuse me* but linusWl fee' [ remißS' - ' . , I think I hear a knocking at, the outer . gate, There's some, new-comers, and they mustn't wait. • ; , , I'll just go round and' stow thdae new' chums • - ' And then Revenons a nous ntontons. (To be concluded in our next.)