The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1886-03-13
{Io'". ct the 4l'''o'.
'OSTLER JOE.

HY GEORGE Il. SIMS.
/ The f"llowing is the poem recited by
| Mrs. James Brown Potter, of New York
| at an entertainment given at Secretary
| WhiIncy'S house, in w Washington, recently,
| for charitable purposes, and when caused
il great deal of untavorable comment. The
| author OF the poem, Mr.. George K. Sims, is
a well known London journalist and play
! wright who is best known in this country
through his play, The Lights of London. -
| he poem is on" of a collection entitled
''Ballads of Babylon" which is dedicated
| 10 John Ryder, the actor l. has frequently
| h'eu rcclird iii pubic and private in New
| York, notably at a benefit performance at
Wallack's Theatre about q year ago
usrLEH JOE
stood at eve, as the sun went down, by a
grave where a woman lies,
" no lured mems souls to the shores of sin
with the light of her wantou eyes,
W ho sang the song that the siren sang on
the treacherous Hurley height,
Whose face was as fair as a summer day,
and whose heart was as black as night
Yet blossom | tain would pluck today
from the garden above her dust,
Not the languorous lily of soulless sin nor
the blood res, rose of lust,
But a sweet white blossom of holy love that
grew in the one green spot,
In the arid desert of PhryneS life where all
was parched and hot.
In the summer, hen the meadows were
aglow With blue and red,
Joe, the 'ostler Of the Maybe and fair An
ME Smith were wed.
Plump was Annie, plump and pretty, with
cheek as white as snow:
lie was anything but handsome, was the
Nagpir'S 'ost!er, Joe
But he won the winsome lasSie. They'd
cottage and a COW,
And her matronhood sat lightly on the viii
lage beauty brow.
Sped the months and came y by such a
blue eyed baby boy
Joe was working in the stables when they
told him of his joy.
He VIZ rubbing down the horses ana he
gave them then and there
Al special feed of clover iust in honor of
the heir:
1t had been his great ambition, and he told
the horses So,
That the Fates would send baby who
might bear the name of Joe
Little Joe the child was christened, and,
like babies, grew apace,
He'd his mothers eyes of azure and his
fathers honest face.
Swift the happy years Went over. years Of
blue and cloudless sky:
Love WAS lord Of that small cottage, and
The tempest passed them by.
Passed them by for year, then swiftly
hurst IN fury DER their home;
Down the lane by Ann:e's cottage CHANGED
gentleman to roam:
Thrice lie came and saw her sitting by the
window with Der child,
And he nodded to the baby, aud the baby
laughed and smiled
50 al last it grew to know him-litrle Joe
was nearly four;
He would call the pretty gempluu," as he
passed the open door,
A I'd one day lie ran aud caught him, and
IN child'S play pulled him in,
And tie baby Joe had prayed for brou 5ht
about the mothers sin
Twas the same old wretched story that for
ages bards have sung
Twas 4 woman weak and wantou, and
villains tempting tongue;
Twas a picture defily painted for silly
creatures eyes
OF the Baby lonian wonders ana the Joy that
in them lies.
Annie listened aud was tempted she was
tempted and she fell,
As The angels fell from Heaven to the
hlackest depth of hell:
Sc vas promised wealth and splcnlor and
litA of guilty sloth;
yellow gold for child and husband-and
he woman left them both
Home one eve came Joe the 'ostlar with Il
CHEEKY cry of Wife :"
FiYding that which blurred forever all the
story Of his life.
She had left silly letter Through the
cruel scrawl he spell;
Then he sought the lonely bedroom, Joined
his horny hands and kuet.
"Now. q Lrrd, q God, forgive her, for she
an't TO blame ~ he cried:
"for owt ia seen her trouble, and a gone
away and died.
Why, a wench like her-God bless her -
twasn't likely as herd rest
With that bonny head forever on a.'ostler's
ragged vest.
at was kind o her to bear me all this lons
and happy time,
So for my sake please to bless her, though
you connt her deed a crime;
If so be | don't pray proper, Lord, forgive
me, for you see
eau raik all r.ght to 'usses, but I'm ner =
Gus like with Thee
Ne'cr line came to The cottage from the
woman who had flown;
| joe the baby. died that winter, and the
man was left alone,
! Ne'er a bitter word he uttered, but in silence
| kissed the rod,
Saving " hat he told his horses saving hat
| he told his cod.
Far away i'll mighty London rose the wo,
man into fame,
| For her beauty Won mems homage, aud she
prospered in her shame;
| Quick from lord to lord She Tilted, higher
still each prize she won,
| And her rivals paed beside her as the stars
beside the sun.
Next She mate the stage her market, and
she dragged Arts temple down
| To the level of a show place for he outcasts
of the town
And the kisses she had given to poor 'Ost
Ter Joe for naught