JESSIE BY THE FOUNTAIN
* * * *
(Dennison Woodcock.)
* * * *
Jessie by the fountain stood
With pitcher in her hand;
She dipped it in the crystal flood
And gave each thirsty man
Who from the hay fields gathered there,
And standing near the brink,
From a gentle hand so fair
Received the cooling drink.
A smile of joy was in her eye,
A consciousness of good;
She felt a blessing from on high,
Approval of her God.
Water pure is all they need
To drive their thirst away;
So again they all proceed
To work amid the hay.
Then drink of water pure and clear,
From stimulants refrain,
'Twill not with business interfere
Or cause a muddled brain.
Another stands behind the bar,
Rather out of place;
A seared conscience seems to mar
The beauty of her face.
She cares not for children's woes
Or anxious mother's need;
While money to her coffer goes
To gratify her greed.
Men go there their thirst to check
With brandy, rum and gin;
She throws a halter round their necks
Which drags them there again.
Their money gone and senses too,
More thirsty than before;
What do these foolish mortals do
But beg and plead for more.
They stagger out into the street,
With curses on their tongue,
With palsied hands and tangled feet,
A sight for old and young.
Which one is a source of pride
And which a social scar,
Jessie by the fountain side,
Or Greed behind the bar?
DEHEWAMIS
* * * *
(Dennison Woodcock.)
* * * *
Some Senecas once went away
In search of food and game;
They wandered on from day to day,
To little Toby came.
An Indian maiden blithe and gay
Was one among the throng;
Who often cheered them on their way
With loving words and song.
She trod as lightly as the fawn;
Her song the hours beguiled;
Her voice was heard at early dawn
Through the green forest wild.
Her song of joy is hushed and gone,
Nor echoes through the glade;
For death has placed his mark upon
That sprightly Indian maid.
A mother's joy, a father's pride,
They could not save their child;
So the Indian maiden died
Far in the forest wild.
They would not leave her body there,
So far from home away;
But bore it with a zealous care,
Many a weary day.
Come to a spring that met the stream
That passed their happy home;
Buried her by the moonlight gleam
Beneath the starry dome.
They often came to view the spot
Where Dehewamis lay;
Till father, mother, sister, brother,
All had passed away.
The water gushes from the spring,
The lofty maples wave;
The summer birds their carols sing
O'er her lonely grave.
THE RUMSELLER'S SOLILOQUY
I had rum, and gin, and brandy
All made of whiskey, too,
And all arranged so handy
To tempt their thirsty view.
Oh! no they need not talk it,
Those were happy times.
With hand in drunkard's pocket
Hauling out the dimes.
Was I starving others?
Then so let it be;
Those children and the mothers
Did not belong to me.
While lying in the gutter,
A mother's loving son,
Conscience began to mutter
At the deed I'd done.
Then came this consolation
Just in the nick of time;
The law of state and nation
Had legalized the crime.
For I had got my license,
Had paid my license fee;
So the squeemish nonsense
Had no effect on me.
The brewers of the nation
To the constitution go,
To save their occupation
From the prohibition blow,
Wonder if the constitution
Would reinstate me here;
Defend me from invasion
While selling rum and beer.
For temperance is booming,
My license now is dead,
And poverty is coming,
My children cry for bread.
Gambling I've been trying
But could not stand the test;
With all my cheat and lying
I came out second best.
I wish I'd stuck to labor,
Earned my bread by honest toil,
Like my hale and happy neighbor
Who ploughs and tills the soil.
My flesh is made of lager,
My muscles weak and lax;
I cannot turn the auger,
Swing the hammer or the ax.
My children's cries so wounding,
My heart with anguish torn;
My troubles so confounding,
I wish I'd not been born.
The thread of life I'd sever
And lay myself to rest;
But thoughts of the forever
Send trouble to my breast.
Should I meet with retribution
Beyond the bounds of time,
Neither law nor constitution
Would legalize the crime.