Readings In Rhyme From The Drama Of Drink

Author : Harriet A. Glazebrook
Publisher : Rarebooksclub.com
ISBN 13 : 9781230000244
Total Pages : 34 pages
Book Rating : 4.0/5 (2 download)

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Download or read book Readings in Rhyme from the Drama of Drink written by Harriet A. Glazebrook and published by Rarebooksclub.com. This book was released on 2013-09 with total page 34 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1876 edition. Excerpt: ...o'er me, Ere I'd time to think, Hard the treacherous current bore me Down the gulf of drink. And to quench the thirst, whose burning Racked me night and day; I, all succour madly spurning, Wandered more astray. Nothing rued I, nothing mattered That our home might sink; All its little treasury scattered, --Gone to purchase drink. And when we in want were reaping Ruin most complete, Then I led my Harry weeping Through the city street. For so sweet a voice had Harry, Such a luring tongue, That the crowd were fain to tarry, Listening to his song. And I knew whoe'er might linger, For his woes would feel; And reward the youthful singer, Heed his sad appeal. Every note so clear and thrilling, Spoke of drams to me; And I've squandered many a shilling, When no food had he. Soon a pitying stranger sought him, Took him by the hand, In the dim cathedral taught him 'Mid the choral band. And when they the first time placed him 'Mid the choir up there, I who'd wronged him, so disgraced him, Waited on the stair; Not to hear his soft voice singing, But with eager thought, Snatched the gift he might be bringing, Liquor with it bought. All were filled with grief and pity, Harry's lot to see; But all in the dull old city, Loathed and hated me / And as I in wrath did view them, Though in rags, forlorn; Hate for hate oft times I threw them, Flung them scorn for scorn. Soon privation, care, and sorrow, Stole his health and strength; Hope spoke of no glad to-morrow To my boy at length. Griefs I'd caused him, ills I'd wrought him, Followed on his track; And the voice the angels lent him, Evil days took back. Then all hope and peace forsook him; What a look he wore! From the time this grief o'ertook him, Harry smiled no more. Soon his white-robed comrades bore him...