The Drunkard's Children A Sequel to "The Bottle" [by Charles Mackay] |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
Part the Fifth.
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| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
 | The Drunkard's Children |  |
V. Part the Fifth.
I
The crime to-day, the punishment to-morrow,—At morn the honeyed cup, at night the gall,—
One hour short joy, the next enduring sorrow,—
Rapture at noon, Remorse at evening's fall—
So rolls for ever the unerring ball:
Cause and effect indissolubly blent.
The tree lies hidden in the acorn small;
The full ripe apple in the seed is pent;
And in the heart of crime throbs its own punishment.
II
So found young Edward, hapless and alone;The seed had ripened, and the tree had borne;—
But keener sorrow, grief, till then unknown,
Rushed o'er his spirit on the coming morn,
When at his side his sister, pale and worn,
Was placed to answer for her brother's shame.
She knew it not:—degraded and forlorn,
She might have sinned; but for this deed no blame
Lay on her guiltless head, poor victim of her name.
III
The court was opened—the indictment read;They stood together. Emma hid her face,
Flushed with her copious tears, and bowed her head,
Nor dared to look at Edward in his place,
Rightly accused of robbery most base.
But he, more calm, looked mournfully around
And watched intent the progress of the case;
He saw the coil of evidence unwound,
And owned himself a wretch—a cumberer of the ground.
IV
And, if his thoughts e'er wandered from the scene,He thought of Emma and his hapless sire;
Then looking on the Judge, whose face serene
Beamed kindly pity, not judicial ire,
He felt those soft, paternal eyes inspire
Hope for his sister. For himself, he knew
Hope was defunct—extinguished was its fire;—
Guilty he was; and yet what could he do?
Oh, that the Judge could read his life's sad riddle through!
V
Oh, that the mild and venerable manCould trace his story. He might still deny
Forgiveness to his guilt; but he might plan
Atonement for it; might, perchance, apply
Kind words to soothe his mental agony.
Had he not struggled hard? Had he not striven
To earn the honest bread of Industry?
Had he not failed? Was every chance not riven
When he attempted it? Was he not hunger-driven?
VI
Would he not now, if but a hope were left,Gladly pursue it? Would he not that day
Be proud to labour, not to be bereft
Of blessed Freedom?—Then his thoughts would stray
Far from the Court to feed upon the day,
When through the fields he roamed a happy child,
And gathered garlands in the early May;—
Ere his young heart was scared, his mind defiled,
When Earth was beautiful, and all creation smiled.
VII
“Silence in Court!” The Jury have agreed.The sudden stillness broke his reveries;
His weeping sister dried her tears to read
Her fate and Edward's in the Jurors' eyes.
“Guilty” for him.—He heard without surprise;—
“Not Guilty” for his sister.—That was Joy!
“Sentence deferred.” She checked her crowding sighs;
She fell upon his neck:—“Remove the boy,
And take him to his cell.” Go free, young Emma Roy!
| The Drunkard's Children | |