The Minnesotian. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn. Territory) 1851-1852, 1852-04-03
A TEMPERANCE BALLAD.


A TEMPERANCE BALLAD.
There 10 q demon In the land,
A demon fierce and risky,
Who steals the souls Of mortal mem
His name Is Casko' whisky.
10 /! mounted on fiery steed,
He rides through town and village,
And calls the workm an from his shop,
The farmer from bis tillage.
clutched in his lanky red right hand
He holds q mighty bicker,s
Whose polished sides run daily o'er,
With floods Of burning liquor.
Around him press the clamorous crowds,
To taste his liquor greedy;
But chiefly come the poor and sad
The suffering and the needy.
All those oppressed By grief and debts,
The dissoute-the lazy,
Draggle-taiPd sluts, and shirtless men,
And young girls lewd and crazy.
"GiveI give % they cry, ssgive, give US drink
Give US your burning liquor,
Well empty fast as You can ill
Your fine capacious bicker.
"Give give US drink to drown our cares,
And make US light and risky,
Give! give! and we will bless thy name,
Thou good Count Casko'whisk %
Right merrly he laugheth,
And holds The bicker out to all,
And each poor idiot Quaffeth.
The first drop warns their shiverlns skins,
And drives away their sadness,
The second lights their sunken eyes
And dis their souls with gladness.
The third drop makes them shout and roar,
And play each furious antic,
The fourth drop boils their very blood,
The nth drop drives them frantic!
And still they drink the burning draught,
Till Old Count Casko' whisky
holds his bInf sides with laughter fierce,
To see them all SO risky.
SHORE more! 10 they cry, "come give Us more!
More OF that right good liquor!
Fill up, old boy, that we may drain
Down TO the dress your bicker"
The demon spurs his iery steed,
And laughs a laugh hollow,
Then waves his bicker In the air,
And beckons them to follow.
On on they rush through mud and miro,
On /! on they rush, exclaiming,
20 Casko whisky give US more,
More Of thy liquor iamins!"
At last he stops his foamlng steed,
Beside a rushing river,
Whose waters to the palate sweet,
Are poison to the liver.
ssThere 20 says the demon, '.drink your fill
Drink Of these waters mellow,
They'll make your bright eyes blear and dull,
And turn your white skins yellow.
s'They'll cause the little sense you have
By inches to forsake you,
They'll cause your limbs Ia faint and fail,
And pa.ses dire ~ shake you
"rhey'll ill your hom with care and grief,
AMI clothe your backs with tatters,
They' ii Ill your ARTS with evil thoughts.-
But never mind what matters?
although virtue sink, AMI reason fall,
And social ties discover,
III De Your friend I'm hour Of need,
And md you homes forever,
"For have built three mansions high,
Three strong and goody houses,
To lodge at last each jolly soul
Who all his lite carouses!
"rhe FIST 1t is a goodly house,
Black are its walls, and high,
And full Of dungeons .eep and fast,
Where deatL-tVomed felons lie.
ssThe second Is lazar-housc,
Rank, fotd and unholy;
Where, feitere'i by diseases foul
And hopeless melancholy.
"The victims of potation deep
Pine on their couch OF sadness;
Some calling death TO emf their pain,
And SOME nplo-ing madness.
"The third house is spacious house,
To all but sots appalling;
Where, by the parish bounty fed,
Vile, In the sunshine crawling,
s'The worn-out drunkari ends his days,
AND eats the dole Of others,
A plague and burden to himself,
An eye-sore 10 his brothers!
$50 drink the waters of this stream,
Drink deep the cup of ruin
Drink, AMI like heroes maily rush
Each man to his undoing!
zone Of my mansions high and strong,
One Of my gOodly houses,
Is sure to lodge each Jolly soul
Who to the dregs carouses 20
Into the stream his courser plunged,
And all the crowd plunged after;
While over hill and valley wide
Resounded pearls Of laughter.
For well he knew, the demon old,
How vain was all his preaching;
The ragged crew that round him fiocked
Were too far gone for teaching.
Even as they wallow In the stream
They cry aloud quite frisky,
"Here's to thy health, thou best Of friends!
Kind, generous Casko'whisky!
GIVE care not for thy houses three,
We live but for the present,
And merry will we make it yet,
And quaf these waters pleasantp'
Loud laughs the nend to hear them speak,
And lifts his trimming bicker,
"Drink, fools !' quoth he. ''you'l pay your scot:
nave Soaf SOUS LOT liquor W c. NJ.
The authorities are against me in the use of This wo
:. johnson h as II BEAKER, a cup with BEAR or Spo,
the horh OF ENGLAND and the south of Scotland BICKl