The weekly hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington, Iowa) 1858-1860, 1860-01-07

Of giving TO the poor.
Hull wages 70 the lsborer,
He always, too. denied;
He paid much less than others paid,
10 mortify his pride.
His pigmy market basket, with
Its closely atting lid,
Concealed the luscious liver, and
Tins vanity was hid.
, Now Tim was pious and he felt
For man IN anxious fear,
Lest root Of evil ruined him,
Tim bagged 1t, far and near.
Twas thus he daily gathered in
The devils dirty pelf;
And we'll we know he never kept
A dollar for himself
For when the bold assessor came,
Assessing all around,
He put the screws to Timmy's pile
And not a dime was found.
Can this he 20 the taxman said
A sceptic, nothing 10th;
Tim Titus proved il clear a mud,
Tim proved il with his oath.
To grind the faces of the poor,
Tim ever kept his mill;
And gathered in from year to year,
The "root of evil" still.
Mistaken toll Of Tins whole life,
Now when his breath was riven,
His hoard was found-a mountain high,
Just--twixt his soul and heav'n,
Dear reader! Here take warning, when
Religi0usly inclined,
Be sure you shake the jingle Of
The dollars from your mind;
For tisnt in the meetin' house,
Nor in the wordy prayer,
But in your daily walks and works,
Religion-must be there;
Ny christian friend, pray don't suppose
You've nothing else to do
But sit each Sundays service out
And ante for your pew.
Now don't suppose you love the Lord,
Because Of pious show,
Nor hx for heav'n before you do
The decent thing, below;
Don't think you're pious, just because
You zee the wrong y0u do;
You may be only bilious,
Deception, nothing new;
At church you feel most wretchedly;
You shew it in your face;
A sincerely feel for you,
III Diagnose your case;
You've quite morbid appetite
For spiritual food;
You swallow, most voraciously,
OF dishes that are good;
OF this dear heavily mama, now
You gormandize your ill,
But you lack in your digestion
And are gormandizing, still!
Religion, more than you can bolt,
Has brought you to this end;
4 spiritual dyspepsia, and
- Not piety, my friend;
You're board the good ship Zion" and
Your sky-sails are unfurled;
Loaded down with crude religion,
Your back upon the world;
Tho headed right, for heaven, in faith,
You stop the boat" to pray,
And your scorks are not in motion
And you drift - the other way.
A sort Of local Helper" now,
put these facts to you;
Discard, or ponder them, at will,
You'll one day find them true;
And ~ for my compendium"
A tspsp'rate one of course,
I'll give it now, and such an one
As you may well endorse.
No poet I, to soar aloft
Beyond the common view,
Nor can say those finer things
That real poets do;
Still, let me sing my simple song,
Securely in the vale;
In other words, pray let me tell
A Sad and Truthful Talel
Bob Burton bore as big a heart,
A any in the town;
His arm to sturdy labor trained,
Was sinewy and brown;
From opening day till evening bells
Bob's anvil's ring was heard; .
No proverb in the town more trite
Than "g0od ~ Burton's word IN
While from his manly brow, that told
Of truth and honesty,
Down rolrd the irreluctant sweat,
Rejoicing to be Free;
And resting on his ruddy cheek,
From revels through his veins,
Bright health lay laughing, face to face,
With sturdy labor's stains
And when the day Of rest came round,
Or merry-making eve,
Bob Burton donpd as fine = suit
As modern looms may weave;
And none more blithe than he were met,
At muster or ct fair,
A hand we'll freed from idleness,
A heart well freed from care.
Bat idle waa the vsgabond,
And ruin was his trade;
Who opened now, near Burton's shOp
A hill where fiends are made:
Where Bob all light Of heart was led
First stealthily to stop,
70 hear the ribald jest and ieer,
To take the frientdly Drop"
A. morn, at noon, At eventide
He'd thitherward repair,
Full soon these three diurnal calls,
Would III requite his care;
Then hourly and oftener,
He beat his steps that way,
~ bRUtbt CbU9AsrU, ul8 0uvu 0UAADcVs
Throughout the weary day.
Bc6S esaaomers but zee his wife,
Win saddened eve and moist,
Eney ma no 6re in the forge.
NOR horse-shoes on the ioist;
Impatient nov, his patrons take
Iheir WORK another Wv.
And borton's shop, 70 busy late.
Les idle I'll the day.
Nov come the careless winter winds
Careering DER the hills;
Al ice-bound are the water.wheels
And silent are the mills:
W bile drunkard Burton's tools lie pavn,a
Cpon the tavern shelf;
ge earns by serving poison out.
The potion for himself
u ittle-oncs. In diRest want.
Nor food NOR Gre have they.
- tlance by their mother eaznN.
- sasyes them day By day;
vsst o'erpowess then quite.
A. 99f Moese opes IL door
-. ~ h11nasinr ~
hspsessd No., : -.
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