No:—she was mild as April morn,
And Andrew loved her too;
She rose at daybreak, though forlorn,
To try what love could do.
And as her waking husband groan'd,
And roll'd his burning head,
She spoke with all the power of truth,
Down kneeling by his bed.
"Dear Andrew, hear me,—though distress'd
"Almost too much to speak,—
"This infant starves upon my breast—
"To scold I am too weak.
"I work, I spin, I toil all day,
"Then leave my work to cry,
"And start with horror when I think
"You wish to see me die.
"But do you wish it? can that bring
"More comfort, or more joy?
"Look round the house, how destitute!
"Look at your ragged boy!
"That boy should make a father proud,
"If any feeling can;
"Then save your children, save your wife,
"Your honour as a man.
"Hear me, for God's sake hear me now,
"And act a father's part!"
The culprit bless'd her angel tongue,
And clasp'd her to his heart;
And would have vow'd, and would have sworn,
But Ellen kiss'd him dumb,—
"Exert your mind, vow to yourself,
"And better days will come.
"I shall be well when you are kind,
"And you'll be better too."—
"I'll drink no more,"—he quick rejoin'd,—
"Be't poison if I do."
From that bright day his plants, his flowers,
His crops began to thrive,
And for three years has Andrew been
The soberest man alive.