 | The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay |  |
62
THE GIN-FIEND.
I
The Gin-Fiend cast his eyes abroad,And look'd o'er all the land,
And number'd his myriad worshippers
With his bird-like, long right hand.
He took his place in the teeming street,
And watch'd the people go;
Around and about, with a buzz and a shout,
For ever to and fro;—
“And it's hip!” said the Gin-Fiend, “hip, hurra!
“For the multitudes I see,
“Who offer themselves in sacrifice,
“And die for the love of me.”
II
There stood a woman on a bridge,She was old, but not with years—
Old with excess, and passion, and pain,
And she wept remorseful tears
As she gave to her babe her milkless breast;
Then, goaded by its cry,
Made a desperate leap in the river deep,
In the sight of the passers-by!
“And it's hip!” said the Gin-Fiend, “hip, hurra!
“She sinks;—but let her be!
“In life or death, whatever she did,
“Was all for the love of me.”
63
III
There watch'd another by the hearth,With sullen face and thin;
She utter'd words of scorn and hate
To one that stagger'd in.
Long had she watch'd, and when he came
His thoughts were bent on blood;—
He could not brook her taunting look,
And he slew her where she stood.
“And it's hip!” said the Gin-Fiend, “hip, hurra!
“My right good friend is he;
“He hath slain his wife, he hath given his life,
“And all for the love of me.”
IV
And every day, in the crowded way,He takes his fearful stand,
And numbers his myriad worshippers
With his bird-like, long right hand;
And every day, the weak and strong,
Widows, and maids, and wives,
Blood-warm, blood-cold, young men and old,
Offer the Fiend their lives.
“And it's hip!” he says, “hip! hip! hurra!
“For the multitudes I see,
“That sell their souls for the burning drink,
“And die for the love of me.”
| The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay | |