Poems (Hoffman)/The Scepter the Poppy Yields
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THE SCEPTER THE POPPY YIELDS
The poppy flaunting her sheeny silks
Through the summer day in the sun,
Tells me of aught
Of good she hath wrought,
What evil hath she done?
Through the summer day in the sun,
Tells me of aught
Of good she hath wrought,
What evil hath she done?
She is only a flower that the children love
For the charm of her gorgeous dye;
Yet stronger powers
Than these wills of ours
Latent within her lie.
For the charm of her gorgeous dye;
Yet stronger powers
Than these wills of ours
Latent within her lie.
In the darkened room on the rack of pain
The wakeful sufferer weeps;
A portion the poppy yields to lull
The tortured brain of the sorrowful
And the sufferer sweetly sleeps.
The wakeful sufferer weeps;
A portion the poppy yields to lull
The tortured brain of the sorrowful
And the sufferer sweetly sleeps.
The opium fiend now haggard and weak,
Once hopeful and strong and brave;
The poppy has woven a spell to entice
$From earnest endeavor to sloth and vice
While she lures to his death her slave.
Once hopeful and strong and brave;
The poppy has woven a spell to entice
$From earnest endeavor to sloth and vice
While she lures to his death her slave.
And this is the scepter the poppy wields
For evil or for good;
Is your influence less
To curse or bless
Oh, beautiful womanhood?
For evil or for good;
Is your influence less
To curse or bless
Oh, beautiful womanhood?
You may weave a spell of kindness and love
O'er a world of strife and woe;
You may lure the race
To a higher place—
Or a lower, where you grow.
O'er a world of strife and woe;
You may lure the race
To a higher place—
Or a lower, where you grow.