Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1870-02-24

faction, uprising, the parson would out thrust.
And so from his watchtower he hears its sad rote,
Asst sweeps thro' the church, changing sheep
into goat.
How long, as Gods minister, should he quiet
remain,
And look on in silence, the silence of pain!
Let him at once seize the broom of his power,
And pile all resolution into the hour,
Let him pray with all prayer yet off with his coat,
And sweep from the church every rummy afioat.
Then it touches as It flows full often the law,
And then, we get far less justice than jaw.
In fact, is't not true, that law offices, wide,
Are but eddies where plays this death sweeping
tide!
What wonder tits so, arn't lawyers for cases,
En- tho, by occasion, that often debases!
Don't the rum furnish more cases for courts,
Than sail out of any other criminal port
Why then, 'gaiast this curse should ever they
burn2
Don't the rum stream often their machinery turn /?
Much, mach honor be his, what lawyer he be,
Who, against this woe-stream ever standeth with
me.
1t sweeps on awide, and it medicine searches,
And doctors oft meet the most comieal lurches.
The rum river, then, has ta'en an emetic,
And grown on sudden wide and splenetic
All tits from the tonics, and bitters, and bour-
bons,
That's found in the practice of Medical Bour-
bons,-
practice which seems curative romance,
And honored much more in the breach than OBJ
servance.
that oar good doctors would stick to their pills,
And not feed the vile food with their medical rils
| But time don't suffice to trace the death
| stream -.A s-~...:...
Nor does time itself limit its onsweeping geam ;
1t rolls its fell power, its tide of deep woe,
To the realms'of the damned, the regions below.
For it there outpours in that region of fire,
Where drunkards forever in anguish expire.
| Where dramsellers meet with law we'll enforced,
Arresting forever their diabolieal course.
Yet compelled ever there to drink their own
wrath,
| Which here by their tempting their neighbors
doth scath.
And thus shall the fountains, or their owners
| at least,
Find their place in the ocean of eternal unrest.
Then, then shall this woe-stream that sweepeth
the world,
Be forever cast out and to perdition be hurled.
There shall its pimps and abetters be sent,
Unless of their vices they quickly repent.
Anu WIS SUM W iledNou Dt
sent
Woel woe to the drunkard, no heaven is his,
Woe woe! to the seller, deep woe is his
A woe universal, and fathomless too,
Where rogues like himself then shall meet with
their due.
Woe woel to the men who, in Rutland, to-day,
By dealing in drink all honor betrsy.
But blessing to you, who in masses combine,
Essay to dry up this red hell-stream of wine
Yes. blessing to Woman, who uses her power
To destroy the worst seourge of this present hour
Not vain are your efforts, you're reward will be
sure,
Your deeds, as in faith, are now treasured in
store
And even now blessings distill as the dew,
And rest on each heart, which to virtue is true =
Which is true to that faith which in Jesus we
find,
The faith of the pure, of the peaceful and kind.
May your star, now ascendant, in darkness ne'er
set, .-E
And your course for the right youth never regret.
Yo1r miss4Jn is noble, your efforts sublime;
Since now you endeavor to redeem well the time.