The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1873-10-24
PETER MOORE.
BY Z. W. EIsENBISE.

Once upon midnight dreary as 1 staggered
drunk and bleary,
Through many street and alley dark,
had never seen before,
While / reeled along unseeming either half
asleep or dreaming,
saw a light whose rays were cleaning,
cleaning through cabin door:
People going to bed, 1 muttered, hut have
forgot to shut the door,
Only this and nothing more.
Then unto this cabin turning, wicked
thoughts within me burning,
resolved to enter slyly, enter in the open
door; ,
Then NV foot, it pressed the Threshold; all
within was dark and death-cold,
But the form that met my gaze, standing
lust inside the door.
Made me wish ne'er had gone into this open
cabin door;
7, hid rs true as 1 am Peter Moore.
It's rhost-like form I'd like to show ye; its
raiment all so white and snowy;
1t seemed a stranger just arrived from Jor-
dams happy shore.
But the thought was soon dispelled me, for
with a mighty blow it felled me,
A blow that sent me reeling, Sprawhng-
bang against the cabin door.
I knew the hand that dealt that sumner,
twas my better-half, sweet Mrs. Moore,
Peggy, in her 'rObe dc chdDsbFe, she it was
and nothing more.
Then that wierd form stood DER me, and
with scurrilous epithets bored me,
Such a lashing from a woman, man had
ne'er received before;
Blackguard, said she, thing of evil, good
for-nOthing, drunken devil
Was the last L heard from Peggy, rs fell
asleep upon the floor;
How long she stayed L can't remember, but
no separate dying ember wrought its
ghost upon the floor.
She had left me in my glory, snoozin' Oh the
cabin floor.
In my cabin lay dreaming, and saw the
ftful cleaning of the light of other
days, those palmy days of yore.
Childhood's scenes were now before me,
forms loved now lowered DER me;
y gain my mothers knee 1 sat on as l had
oft ttimes before;
Then promised her, my mother, as left
the cottage door,
That I'd never touch the bottle, never, new
er more.
Then again, 1 saw a maidcn-saw a rare
aud radiant maiden,
Rushing forth TO greet my coming, and kiss
me, welcome home once more;
She it was 1 loved so nadly-she ii was who
smiled so gladly when L crossed the cot
tage door,
1 was called by every person Mr., not old
Peter Moore.
1 was once again among them It seemed
ne'er had wandered from them;
1 was roaming mid those gay and happy
scenes of yore,
Then wicked demon smiling, with his
blackened heart beguiling,
Spread pail so dark and heavy, o'er my
dreams so light before,
L drained the poisoned cup he held and then
my happiness was DER.
1t was fatal step 1 took; it ruined Peter
Moore.
Then my thoughts were turned to madness,
all We're gone-those dreams of gladness,
In quivering sigh departed-in fear l
raised up from the floor;
On the black hearth's blackest centre I be-
held my iendish mentor,
He who caused me first to stray from my
yine-clad cottage door;
OH how he screamed with hideous laughter
at me, his victim, OH the floor;
Like quilts on the fretful porcupine stood
the hair of Peter Moore.
Then the demon seemed to name me- Then
wondrous calm oercame me;
The cold and gluey death-damp oozed in
streams from every pore,
l looked again, o GOdi 1 saw it, and from
out its flaming jaw, it spat ceaseless
secthing, kissing, bubbling, gurgIimg
stream of gore.
1t came swelling, kissing round me as 1 sat
upon the floor,
That was indeed night OF terror to unhap-
py Peter Moore.
tiends with hellish laughter
Whose hideous yells and piercing cries
chilled me cen TO my heart core;
Then came a murmur low and deep, like the
voice of assassins in their sleep
Murmuring, muttering, higher, higher, eve
want your blood, lost Peter Moore
Then one by one they gathered round me,
as l sat upon the floor,
Breathing fire from every nostril i'll the face
of Peter Moore.
The cold serpents wrapped around me- In
their Shiny folds they bound me,
And their poisoned fangs, l thought, my
very vitals tore;
L started to my feet in terror from my
dreams phantasmal error;
And the mornings ruddy beams were glanc-
ing in the door.
There before me sadly weeping stood my
wife upon the floor.
She L brought to degradation, the wretched
wife of Peter Moore,
She cried out, "Why, what has smote YOU
You have had the mani-a-potu;
You raved so madly, gazed wildly, as
you lay upon the floor
Maggie, dear, the horrid demons '.Iike
phantasmagoric demons"
Mocked me, jeered me, burnt me, chilled
me as lay upon the floor.
L curse the day 1 took to drinking. The
goblet will touch no more;
She smiled as sweet.y as she did when she
tlrst knew Peter Moore.
'By the heavens that bend above us-by
the God we both adore ~
This | tell, and tell it truly, I will drink
vile rum no more.
Oh! that night of fear and terror-it has
turned me from nv error.
dread the hour and bless the moments 1
lay dreaming on the floor;
1t brought again my vine-clad cottaCe-I
left he V cal