 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
THE LAST STRAW.
Brave as the bravest are, and willing
Now for the daily load,
Now for the longest road,
Fired with the dauntless courage, filling
All who delight in passions thrilling,
True to what duty showed;
Ah, he would bear the sternest drilling,
If he might earn an extra shilling,
Ought that his master owed,
Yet, while the spirit flowed
Free in his breast, and, spite of spilling,
Life in its sunset glowed.
Now for the daily load,
Now for the longest road,
Fired with the dauntless courage, filling
All who delight in passions thrilling,
True to what duty showed;
Ah, he would bear the sternest drilling,
If he might earn an extra shilling,
Ought that his master owed,
Yet, while the spirit flowed
Free in his breast, and, spite of spilling,
Life in its sunset glowed.
105
Once at the front, he flashed, in races
Bright with the gilded throng,
Glory of feast and song,
Sheen of the daintiest lawn and laces,
Showered on women's tender graces;
Sped without lash of thong,
Steady in conquering stride, and paces
Proud to be seen by angel faces,
Cheering the courses long,
Trusting he would not wrong
Hopes, that assigned him foremost places,
Once, in his sunrise strong.
Bright with the gilded throng,
Glory of feast and song,
Sheen of the daintiest lawn and laces,
Showered on women's tender graces;
Sped without lash of thong,
Steady in conquering stride, and paces
Proud to be seen by angel faces,
Cheering the courses long,
Trusting he would not wrong
Hopes, that assigned him foremost places,
Once, in his sunrise strong.
Now in the cab that creeps and rumbles
Ever upon its way,
Ever from dawn of day,
Driven by trembling hand that fumbles
Oft on the reins, with oaths and grumbles
Deep after drunken stay;
Now, though the task his record humbles,
Now, though his faltering footstep stumbles
Striking on muddy clay,
Stoutly he toils and never tumbles,
On through the gaslight's ray.
Ever upon its way,
Ever from dawn of day,
Driven by trembling hand that fumbles
Oft on the reins, with oaths and grumbles
Deep after drunken stay;
Now, though the task his record humbles,
Now, though his faltering footstep stumbles
Striking on muddy clay,
Stoutly he toils and never tumbles,
On through the gaslight's ray.
Still he is weaker, slowly tending
Down to the common grave,
Only the rest of slave,
Darkly by devious circuits wending
Lower, to the one sombre ending,
Silent, where none can save;
Yet not a thought to spare the spending,
Yet not a sign of coward bending,
Respite he well might crave;
Till the last trifle gave
Just the repose it lacked, his rending
Life, to the finish brave.
Down to the common grave,
Only the rest of slave,
Darkly by devious circuits wending
Lower, to the one sombre ending,
Silent, where none can save;
Yet not a thought to spare the spending,
Yet not a sign of coward bending,
Respite he well might crave;
Till the last trifle gave
Just the repose it lacked, his rending
Life, to the finish brave.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |