THE LAST DRINK.
An old man entered a dram-shop,
He staggerd and stumbled in;
His face was as hard as granite,
His hair was light and thin.
The bar-keeper’s daughter entered
In a dress of purest white,
And she looked as sweet as could be
In her nice new clothes that night.
The old man stopped, and reasoned,
For his own dear child he knew
Was shoeless and cold and ragged
And his wife was starving, too.
So the dime that lay in his pocket,
Bought bread for his wife that night,
And the old bar-keeper’s daughter
Still dressed in her snowy white.
But soon ere the winter was over
The drunkard was drunkard no more,
And the wife and child were happy
As they never had been before.
IN SPRING TIME.
Oh, fresh from the woodland comes the breath—
The breath of the beautiful spring;
And the gentle zephyrs that float about
Scents from the meadow and forest bring.
And in every tree
A robin in glee
Is chanting a joyous melody.