Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1867-11-07
Tsmpls uf iIe Nasss.
THE SONG OF DRINK

Ho! Muster me now the armies that drink,
| And marshal the dead in line:
Lo! War and Famine and Pestilence shrink
To number their forces with mine.
can boast of worth and pride of birth:
'Tis glorious sight to see
The mighty who rules in affair, of earth
Surrender their honors to me!
No barren sceptre my strong arm wields,
To me the monarch kneels,
And the victor chief of hundred fields
drag at my chariot wheels.
lurk in the senate and plead in the court;
Shall spare the wise and great.
The rich and the proud / make my sport,
As well as the low in estate.
In brothel and palace I practice harm,
Inerye for the cause!ess strife
The coward heart and the shrinking arm,
And point the assassin's knife.
Inevery household the doorpost bears
The mark of victims blood,
And every hamlet and city hears,
The orphans cry for food.
dance at the bridal-my form is seen
The altar steps beside.
And my leering yisage comes between
The bridegroom and the bride.
scofF at kindred and sacred truth;
Old age confesses my thrall,
And my spells descend on the hopes of youth
As cods on coffin fall.
For me the righteous forsskes the good,
Thereverenttongue profanes,
And the sluggish currents of Saxon blood
Turn to lighting in the veins.
But list to the laughter thatechoes back,
And mark the glee that reigns
When his fagon of Rhenish and cup of sack
The Teuton or Briton drains.
They pause not for illness ndfeverish breath,
Bleared eyes and shivering frame,
You may whisper of loved ones, and wsitin
death,
But they quaff the wine the same,
GA merry reign and gay domain.
Men quicken the seeds of strife,
For 1 sleep inert in fruit and grain,
Til they tortpe ms to life.
To the tambonrine and the merry pipe
The swains and madens dance,
I, 1l,.
Empurple the hills of France.
Let the Gathering presses drip with wine,
Let the drunkards drink their fill,
Ny leafy shrineis the clinging vine,
And my armory the still.
To cater for Satan has been my task
For maLy and many an hour,
I have served him we'll, nor fear to ask
For further lease of power.
For Sculpture, and Painting, and Poesy
Have We'd with each other long
In doing honor and court to ME,
On canvass, in marble, and song.
An artist am 1.-The visage wan
And the tear-stained cheek my page,
And for me the youthful form takes on
The care worn look of age.
Deep lines plough on the sunny brow
As the tempest ploughs the wave,
On fair heads sift untimely snow,
And Dig for the strong grave.
Drink, drink. of the liquors my goblets afford
As grateful TO the taste
As the sparkling hector that graced the board
At Cana's marriage feast.
Drink, drink, drink, till ghostly fingers weave
Strange sights round the festal hall;
Drink, tits cherries without, and meyer believ
That the wine will turn to gall.
Mourn, children Of men, for the power of m,
spell,
For the strength of my cankering chains,
And laugh, ye demons, that people hell,
While the drunkard counts his gains;
A ruined frame and taTnished name,
a sunless and desolate even,
In exchange for his life and his better fame,
His trust, and his hopes of Heaven.
A Tavas manor daciroo his m