 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
208
THE BAR-KEEPER'S DREAM.
'T was midnight in the bar-room dim,
The revellers had flown,
The bar-man looked around with fear
To find himself alone;
An icy chill lay at his heart
He ne'er before had known.
The revellers had flown,
The bar-man looked around with fear
To find himself alone;
An icy chill lay at his heart
He ne'er before had known.
He stood within his silent bar,
He felt the dismal gloom!
The lamps' dull glare cast here and there
Dim shadows round the room;
His spirit felt a sense as sad
As if 't were in a tomb.
He felt the dismal gloom!
The lamps' dull glare cast here and there
Dim shadows round the room;
His spirit felt a sense as sad
As if 't were in a tomb.
And thought, which in the hour of glee
He never would allow,
And conscience, with its awful voice,
Long hushed, he well knew how,
Both came upon him in that hour,
And busy were they now.
He never would allow,
And conscience, with its awful voice,
Long hushed, he well knew how,
Both came upon him in that hour,
And busy were they now.
209
Old days of innocence and peace
Came vividly to view,
And scenes of home, and love, and joy,
His early childhood knew,
Ere greed of gain had drawn his soul
From love of good and true.
Came vividly to view,
And scenes of home, and love, and joy,
His early childhood knew,
Ere greed of gain had drawn his soul
From love of good and true.
The homestead, with its glad delight,
The school-house on the hill,
The church whose spire rose high and white,
The brook which turned the mill,—
As erst they lived within his sight,
He saw them plainly still.
The school-house on the hill,
The church whose spire rose high and white,
The brook which turned the mill,—
As erst they lived within his sight,
He saw them plainly still.
And early love's sweet garlands shone
His dreamy thoughts among;
He heard the same familiar tone
That young affection sung,
When buoyant hope his horizon
With bright creations hung.
His dreamy thoughts among;
He heard the same familiar tone
That young affection sung,
When buoyant hope his horizon
With bright creations hung.
He marked the change—alas! the change—
When, leaving all for gold,
He quenched the fires of early truth
With lust's fell waters cold,
And innocence, a thing of trade,
Was bargained for and sold.
When, leaving all for gold,
He quenched the fires of early truth
With lust's fell waters cold,
And innocence, a thing of trade,
Was bargained for and sold.
Then conscience, with a wand of fire,
Brought his life-deeds to view,—
Portrayed them to his blenching gaze
In colors strong and true,
And fancies of appalling shape
Across his vision flew:
Brought his life-deeds to view,—
210
In colors strong and true,
And fancies of appalling shape
Across his vision flew:
The squalid forms of blasted ones,
The hollow, sunken eyes,
Which beamed of old like radiant suns,
And cheeks of healthful dyes,
Grown haggard now as hideous things
That from the grave might rise.
The hollow, sunken eyes,
Which beamed of old like radiant suns,
And cheeks of healthful dyes,
Grown haggard now as hideous things
That from the grave might rise.
And where the light of genius shone,
And reason's blessed ray,
That light was quenched, that ray had gone,
The curse now held its sway;
O woe! the peril of that one
Who thus that soul could slay!
And reason's blessed ray,
That light was quenched, that ray had gone,
The curse now held its sway;
O woe! the peril of that one
Who thus that soul could slay!
And maiden innocence and ruth,
That once bloomed but to bless,
Whose smile was fraught with love and truth,
Angelic scarcely less,
Sunk, sunk beneath the tempter's wiles,
To utter wretchedness!
That once bloomed but to bless,
Whose smile was fraught with love and truth,
Angelic scarcely less,
Sunk, sunk beneath the tempter's wiles,
To utter wretchedness!
And dire distress on every side,
And squalor, death and need,
And homes of happiness denied,
And hearts that hourly bleed,
And little orphan hands upraised,
In timid suppliance plead.
And squalor, death and need,
And homes of happiness denied,
And hearts that hourly bleed,
211
In timid suppliance plead.
And sounds of woe rise on the air—
Sounds that he heeds full well:
The mother's accents of despair,
The reeling madman's yell,
The murdered victim's dying prayer,
The murderer's funeral knell.
Sounds that he heeds full well:
The mother's accents of despair,
The reeling madman's yell,
The murdered victim's dying prayer,
The murderer's funeral knell.
His eyes and ears drank in the whole,
Chill grew his sluggish blood,
The while remorse poured o'er his soul
An overwhelming flood,
His hands he wrung in dismal dole,
And trembled as he stood.
Chill grew his sluggish blood,
The while remorse poured o'er his soul
An overwhelming flood,
His hands he wrung in dismal dole,
And trembled as he stood.
Ah, sad the contrast which he drew
Betwixt his now and then,
As memory recalled the view
Of those bright days again;
A devil now he seemed, to blast
And scourge his fellow-men.
Betwixt his now and then,
As memory recalled the view
Of those bright days again;
A devil now he seemed, to blast
And scourge his fellow-men.
And conscience whispered in his ear—
“This work of thine regard;
In sin's broad field for many a year
Thou 'st labored well and hard;
For all that thou hast rendered here
Shall come a meet reward!”
“This work of thine regard;
In sin's broad field for many a year
Thou 'st labored well and hard;
For all that thou hast rendered here
Shall come a meet reward!”
212
And then he vowed a fearful vow,
Wrung forth with many a groan,
That through his life for evil past
He 'd struggle to atone;
He waked—the room was still and dark,
And he was all alone.
Wrung forth with many a groan,
That through his life for evil past
He 'd struggle to atone;
He waked—the room was still and dark,
And he was all alone.
| Rhymes with reason and without | |