The Austin weekly statesman. (Austin, Tex.) 1883-1898, 1886-03-11
,osrLER JOE.
THE POEM WHICH SHOCKED
WASHINGTON SOCIETY
trIOth Tue W dSulhetou Sapiea'I
T.. De-. D-a4.. .no1 . H.

full and striking poem by George r. Sims,
an English writer, at the chaitable enter
tainment at Secretary Whitney's residence
on the 18th inst. We publish this poem
in full to-day in order that certain pru-
dish people who have fancied that they
were shocked on hearing the poem read
may peruse it and be assured that there
was nothing improper either in the words
or the tone of il, We have heard "'Ostler
Joe" called "Swinburnian" in character,
but such a reference to it would be made
only by persons who either never read
this poem, or else never read Swinburne.
If the object of public reading be not to
put lot of stupid people to sleep, but to
produce dramatic effect, then Mrs. Pot
ter exercised correct and praiseworthy
Judgment in her selection of this poem:
stood at eve, as the Gun went down, by grave
where woman lies,
Who lured mems souls to the shores OF sin with
the light of her wanton eyes,
Who Gang the song that the siren sang on the
treacherous Lurley height,
Whose face was as fair as a summer day and
whose heart was as black as night
Yet blossom fain would pluck to day from the
garden above her dust
Not the languorous lily of soulless sin nor the
But sweet white blossom of holy love that grew
in the one green spot, /
In the arid desert, of Phyrnes life, where al
was parched and hot
In the summer, when the meadows were aglow
with blue and red,
Joe, the 'ostler of the Maybe, and fair Annie
Smith were we'd
Plump was Annie, plump and pretty, with a
cheek as white as snow;
lie was anything but handsome, was the Magpie's
'ostler, Joe.
But he won the winsome lassie. They'd cot
tage and COW,
And her matronhood sat lightly on the village
beauty's brow.
Sped the months and came baDy-suCh blue'
eyed baby boy
Joe was working in the stables when they told
him of his joy.
He was rubbing down the horses, aud he gave
them then and there
All special feed of clover, inst in honor of the
heir.
1t had been his great ambition, and he told the
horses 80,
That the fates would send baby who might
bear the name OF doe.
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 cluudless sky,
Love was lord of that small cottage, and the tenn
pests passed them by.
Passed them by for years, then swiftly burst in
fury o er their nome.
Down the lane by Annie's cottage CHANGED gen
tleman to roam
Thrice he came and saw her sitting by the win
dow with her child,
And he nodded to the baby, and the baby laugh
ed and smiled.
SO at last it grew to know him-little Joe was
nearly four;
He,would call the "pretty gemplin' as he passed
the open door;
And one day he ran and caught him, and in
child's play pulled him in;
And the baby Joe had prayed for brought about
the mothers sin.
Twas the same old wretched story that for ages
bards have sung,
Twas Il woman weak and WantOn and a william {
tempting tongue;
Twas picture deity painted for silly crea
lures eyes
OF the Babylonian wonders and the joy that IL
them lies.
Annie listened and was tempted; she was tempt
ed and she fell
As the angels fell from heaven to the blackes
depths of hell.
She was promised wealth and spendor and lif
of guilty sloth,
Yellow gold for child and husband, and the wo
man left them both
Home one eve came Joe the 'Ostler with cheer
cry of "Wife!'
Finding that which blurred forever all the stor
of his life
| She had left silly letter-through the crue
scrawl he epelt:
Then he sought the lonely bedroom, joined hi
horny hands and knelt.
snow, o Lord, o God, forgive her, for she ain
to blamel" he cried;
"For owt TIA seen her trouble, and agone ava
and died.
"Why, a wench like her-God bless her! 'twasn'
likely as herd rest
"With that bonny head forever on a 'ostler's rag
ged vest.
sit was kind o her to bear me all this long an
happy time,
$50 for my sake please to bless her, though yo
count her deed a crime;
" If so be don't pray proper, Lord, forgive me
81 can talk all right to osses, but I'm nervou
like WITH Thee
Meier line came to the cottage from the woma
who had flown;
Joe the baby died that winter, and the man wa
left alone,
Meier a bitter word he uttered. but in silenc
kissed the rod,
Saying what he told the horses, saying what h
told his God
Far away in mighty London rose the woman int
fame,
For her beauty won mems homage, and she pros
pered in her shame:
Quick from lord to lord she fitted, higher still
each prize she won
And her rivals paled beside her as the stars b.
eide the sun.
Next she made the stage her market, and sh
dragged Arts temple down
To the level of show place for the outcasts o
the town,
And the kisses she had given TO poor 'Ostler Jo
for naught
With their gold and costly jewels rich and title,
lovers brought
Went the years with flying footsteps while tn
star was at lite height:
Then the darkness came on swiftly and tn
cleaning turned to night.
Shattered strength and faded beauty tore tn
lalrels from her brow;
OF the thousands who had worshipped never on
came near her now.
Broken down in health ard fortune mea forgo
her very name,
Till the news that she was dying woke the echoe
Of her fame;
And the papers, in their gossip, mentioned HOY
an "actress" lay
Sick to death in humble lodgings, growing weake
every day.
One there was who read the story in far-of
country place,
And that night the dying woman woke and look
ed upon his face
Once again the strong arms clasped her that hat
clasped her long ago,
And the weary head Law pilloWed on the breast O