Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1881-02-26
TEMPERANCE COLUMN
TO RETAILETs.
BY DIR. CHARLES IEwRr.
Published by request

lfuDllSneu Dy request.
Ye. who, regardless of your countrv,s good.
Fill up your Golfers with the price of blood,
Who pour out poison with a liberal hand,
And scatter crime and misery thro' the land.
Tho now rejoicing in the midst of health,
In fail possession of ill-gotten wealth,
Yet h few days, at most, the hour must come,
When We shall know the poison sellers
And shrink beneath it; for upon you all,
The Indignation OF God shall fall.
In vain We strive with hypocritic tongue
TO make mankind believe ye do not wrong;
Ne know the fruits of this accursed trade;
Ne see the awful havoc il hath made;
He pour out men their death and endless
woe,
And then assert we wish it were notso,
But tits truth, and We know full fell,
Ihat some Will drink, as long as We viii sell.
But should We cease from selling. one and all.
The fetters would at once from thousands
fall,
And though they now are voluntary slaves,
And rush with open eyes down TO their
Twould grant respite, give them time 10
think,
And when they, shuddering, viewed the
From which they'd just escaped, they'd
Reform their lives, and bless you for the
deed.
But here the old excuse yet meets us still,
Il
Then let them sell, and ye9l b. ne'er the
worse:
They'll have the profits and the'n have the
curse.
If some will still do wrong, We should refuse;
The sin of others, cannot you excuse,
Is it, in fact, a privilege to sell
What kills the body, dooms the soul to hell.
Bear this in mind; We have at your COM
mand,
The power to bless, or power to curse the
If We will sell, intemperanee will roll
Her wave of bitterness DER many a soul.
Still will the wife for her lost husband mourn
And sigh for days that never.shall return.
still that unwelcome sight our eyes shall
greet,
OF begged children roaming thro' the street:
And thousands whom our labors can't safe,
Go trembling, totteling, reeling to the grave.
VIII scores of lOungers pass their hours
And cen the peaceful night for rest ordai'd,
Will with their noisy revels be ordained.
The poisonous cup will pass, and mirth and
glee
Gid DER the surface of their misery,
-UprOarOuS laughter fill each space between :;
Harsh oaths, ungodly songs, and jests oh
scene,
Laugh at the jest, and glory in the song.
How oft you see the children of the poor,
With unshod feet, unwilling throng your
door,
That which must work deep mise'y and woe;
That which will change tnefatheF to beast;
That which will rob a mother of her rest;
And take from half-fed children needful
And gives them curses, frowns and blows
instead;
Which tears from dropping age is shelter
All this We see, and seeing still procure,
To make you rich and all around you poor.
POiIr ont your noisOn stilI soma Within diac
Then go and at his funeral wipe your eyes,
Join there that mournfuI throng with sol
And help to bear him to his burial place.
There stands his wife with weeping child
rem round,
While their fast falling tears bedew the
ground
From many an eye the gem of pity starts,
And many sigh from sympathizing hearts
Comes laboring up and almost chokes the
breath,
While thus they gaze u'on the work of deah.
The task concludes; the relics of the dead
Are slowly settled to their damp, cold bed.
Come, now draw near, my money-mal1ing
friend,
You saw the starting-comea and see the end,
When you first filled his glass, ONE would
suffice;
Next TWO were wanting, and now HERE HE
LIES.
Look now into that opening grave, and say,
DOst feel no sorrow, no remOrse to-day?
Does not your answering conscience loud
declare,
That your cursed aparice has laid him there?
Recall the virtues which he onced possessed,
How justly honOred, and how richly blest,
With health uninjured, character unstain'd;
While at his hearth domestic comfort reig'd.
SO meet him there-a smiling wife you'd see
And prattling children climbing up his
knee;
His heart was cheerful-hfsc conscience clear;
And thus he Journey II on from year to year.
Till, oh, sad day when first he CHANGED to
drop
Within the confines of your slaughter shop,
You filled for him the Intoxicating glass,
Loud cracked your jokes, and babe the
bumper pass,
And while he thoughtless poured the rain
down,
You counted future crops from seed then
SOwn;
And you have reaped even all his earthly
store;
But death has snatched him and your har-
vests DER.
Now, since the earth has closed DER his re-
mains,
Turn DER your book and count your honest
gains
How doth the aecouat for his last week be-
gin?
Monday, the twenty-fourth, one quart of
gin;
A like amount for each succeeding day,
Tells on the book, but wears his life away.
Saturdays charges make out the account
complete,
"To cloth five yards, to make a winding
Sheet"
There all stands fair Within mistake or flaw,
How honest trade will thrive upheld by lar.