Year: 1873

| DlOOU,


Who pour out poison with liberal hand,
And scatter crime and misery through


the land,
Though now rejoicing in the midst of


health,
| In full possession of ill-gotten wealth;
Yet few days, at most, the hour must
When We shall know the poison-sellers


doom,


And shrink beneath it; for upon you all,
The Indignation of God shall fall.
In vain.ye strive, with hypocritic tongue,
To make mankind believe We do no


wrong?


Ye know the fruits of this accursed trade;
Ye see the awful havoc it hath made;
Ye pour out men their death and end


less woe,


And then assert-we wish it were not so,
But It's a truth, and that We know full


we'll
That some will drink, as long as We will
sell.


But should ye cease from selling, one


and all,


The fetters would at once from thous-
ands fall,


And tho they now are voluntary slaves,
And rush with open eyes down to their
graves,
'Twould grant respite, give them time


to think,
And when they, shuddering,viewed the


awful brink,
From which they'd just escaped, they


take heed,
Reform their lives, sand bless you for the


deed.


But here the old excuse yet meets us


still, -,
sIf don't sell the poison, others will;
Then let them sell, and yell be neer


the worse
THEY'LL have the profits, and they'll have


the curse.


If some still do wrong, We should re-
The sins of others can not you excuse.
Is it, in fact, privilege to sell
What kills the body, dooms the soul to
hell ?


Bear this in mind ye have at your


command
The power to bless. or power to curse


the land.
| If We will sell l,intemperance still will roll,
Her wave of bitterness DER manya soul
Still will the wife for her lost husband


mourn,


And sigh for days that never shall re-
turn.
Still that unwelcome sight our eyes shall


greet
Of beggared children roaming through


the street
And thousands whom our labors cannot


save,


Go trembling, tottering, reeling to their


grave.


Still lettering at your shop the livelong


day,
While scores of loungers pass their


hours away;
And cen the peaceful night, for rest Or


dained,


Will with their noisy revels be ordained.
The poisonous cup will pass, and mirth


and glee


Gid Ger the surface of their misery,
Uproarous laughter fill each space be-
Harsh oaths, ungodly songs and Jests
obscene.


And there veil stand amid that drunk
| en- throng,
Laugh at the jests, and glory in the song.
Hew oft ye see the children Of the poor
With unshod feet, unwilling, throng


your door,
And carry with them as they homeward
That which must work deep misery and
woe


That which will change the father to
beast


That which will rob mother OF her
And take from halffed children needful
bread,
And give them curses, ,frowns, and blows


instead


Which tears from dropping age its sshel-
ter warm.
All this We see, and seeing still procure,
To make you rich and all around you


poor.


Poor out your poison till some victim


dies,


Then go and at his funeral wipe your
eyes.
Join there that mourning throng with
solemn face,
And help to bear him to his burial place.
There stands his wife, with weeping


children 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 upon the work of
death.


Tie task concludes, the relics of the dead
Are slowly settled to their damp, cold


bed.