Los Angeles daily herald., 1886-11-18
'OSTLER JOE.
Thc Poem which Shocked WASH
ingt0n Society.

Mrs. James Brown Potter read beau.
tiful and striking poem BY George K.
Sims, an English writer, at the charita-
BILE entertainment at Secretary Whit
news residence on the 10Th instant.
This poem we publish in full in order
that certain prudish people who have
fanciei that they were shocked on hear
ing the poem may peruse it and be as
sured that there was nothing improper
either in the words or the tone of it,
We have heard "Ostler Joe" called
''Ewinburnian" 10 character, but such
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.
Potter exercised correct and praise
worthy judgment in her selection of this
poem:
i stood at eve, as the sun went down, by
grave where a woman lies.
Who lured mems souls to the shores of sin
with the light OF her wanton eyes;
Who sang the song that the siren sang ON
the treacherous Lurley height,
Whose face was as fair as a summers day
and whose heart was as black as night.
Yet a blossom fain would pluck to-day
from the garden above her dust
Not the languorous lily Of soulless sin nor
the blood-red rose OF lust
But sweet white blossom of holy love, that
grew In the one green spot
In the arid desert of Phrsne'slife. where all
was parched and hot.
In the summer when the meadows were
aglow with blue and red,
Joe. the 'ostler of the Magpie, and fair An
ME Smith were wed;
Plump was Annie, plump and pretty. with
cheek as white as snow
He was ANYTHING but handsome, was the
Magpie's 'ostier, Joe.
But he won the winsome lassie. They'd a
cottsge ana COW, :,
And her matronhood sat lightly on the vii
lage beauty's brow;
Sped the months and came a baby-such a
blue-eyed baby boy!
Joe was working in the stables, when they
told him of his Joy.
He was rubbing down the horses, and he
gave them then and there
All special feed OF clover, just In honor OF
the heir.
1t had been his great ambition. and he told
the horses so.
That the Faies would send a baby who
might bear the name of Joe.
Little Joe, the child was christen ed, and.
like babies, grew apace;
He'd his motherss eyes OF azure and his
fathers honest face.
Swift the happy years went over, years CT
blue and cloudless sky,
Love was lord of that small cottage and the
tempests passed them by.
Passed them by for years, then swiftly burst
in fury Ger their home.
Down the lane by Annie's cottage CHANGED
agentleman to roam;
Thrice he came and saw her sitting by the
window with her child,
And he nodded to the baby and the baby
laughed and smiled.
So at last it grew to know htm-little Joe
was nearly four:
He would cal 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 broush
about the mothers sin.
Twas but the same old wretched story tina
for q ges bards have sung,
Twas woman weak and wanton and vii
lain's tempting tongue;
Twas picture deftly painted for sill,
OF the Babylonian wonders and the JOY tina
in them lies.
Annie listened and was tempted; she wa
Asthe Angels fall from heaven to the black
est depths of hell;
She was promised wealth and splendor ani
a life OF guilty sloth,
Volln ntu for 4 hue ~,
woman left them both.
Home one eve came Joe the 'ostler, with &
CHEEKY cry of "Wife!"
Finding that which blurred forever all the
story of his life.
She had left silly letter-through the crue
scrawl he spelt;
Then he sought the lonely bedroom, joined
his horny hands and knelt.
Snow, o Lord. O God, forgive her, for she
amt to blame!" he cried;
"For owt ia seen her trouble, and a-gone
away and died.
Why wench like her-God bless her
twssn't likely as herd rest
With that bonny head forever on ostler'f
ragged. vest
1t was kind o. her to bear me all this long
and happy time,
So for my sake pleaseto bless her, though you
count her deed a crime;
III 30 be don't pray proper, Lord, forgive
4 can talk all right to 'osses, but T m nervous
like with Thee"
woman who had flown;
Joe, the baby. died that winter and the ian
was left alone.
Ne'er bitter word he uttered, but in silence
Saving what he told the horses, saving what
he told his God.
Far away in mighty London rose the woman
into fame,
For her beauty won mems homsge, and she
prospered 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
beside the sun.
Next she made the stage her market, and she
dragged Arts temple down
To the level OF show-place for the outcasts
And the. kisses she had given to poor 'Ostler
Joe for naught,
With their gold and costly jewels rich and
titled lovers bought
Went the years with flying footsteps while
the star was at its height:
Then the darkness came on swiftly, and the
gl0aming turned to night,
Shattered strength and faded beauty tore the
1aurels from her brow;
OF the thousands who had worshiped never
one came near her now.
Broken down in health and fortune. len for
got her very name,
Till the news that she was dying woke the
echoes of her fame:
And the papers. in their gossip, mentioned
how an ACTRESS" lay
Sick to death in humble lodgings, growing
weaker every day.
One there was who read the story in far of
country place,
And that night the dying woman woke and
looked upon his face.
Once again the strong arms clasped her that
had clasped her long ago,
And the weary head lay pillowed ON the
breast of 'Ostler Joe.
All the past had he forgotten, all the sorrow
and the shame;
He had found her sick and lonely, and his