Poems (Trask)/The Drunkard's Wife
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
THE DRUNKARD'S WIFE.
Loud roar the winds, the cutting ice-bolts fall,
The whirling snow is borne along the air;
The dark pine-trees shriek to the wind's wild call,
And writhe like conquered giants in despair.
The whirling snow is borne along the air;
The dark pine-trees shriek to the wind's wild call,
And writhe like conquered giants in despair.
Cold, by the fireless hearth, a mother kneels,
Clasps to her breast a hunger-dying child!
The life-blood in her veins with cold congeals.—
Starvation glitters in her dark eye wild.
Clasps to her breast a hunger-dying child!
The life-blood in her veins with cold congeals.—
Starvation glitters in her dark eye wild.
"O God!" she cries,—"O God! look on my child!
Sweet Heaven, have pity! My poor darling spare!
To die! to die! those lips that on me smiled!
To wither in the grave-mould this brow fair.
Sweet Heaven, have pity! My poor darling spare!
To die! to die! those lips that on me smiled!
To wither in the grave-mould this brow fair.
"Black gloom and darkness! chillier grows the night!
The midnight bell has tolled! he is not here!
He lingers o'er the wine-cup red and bright,—
Unmindful that the morning draweth near.
The midnight bell has tolled! he is not here!
He lingers o'er the wine-cup red and bright,—
Unmindful that the morning draweth near.
"My babe! how cold! my tears freeze on thy cheek,
So pinched with want, I turn from it away!
Hark! hear the rushing of the north wind bleak!
No food,—no fire,—to cheer the coming day!
So pinched with want, I turn from it away!
Hark! hear the rushing of the north wind bleak!
No food,—no fire,—to cheer the coming day!
"Oh, loved! and lost! oh that he'd turn and flee,—
Flee from the monster ere his doom is fixed!
Cursed be the wine-cup! thrice accursed be he
Who for his fellow-man hath poison mixed!
Flee from the monster ere his doom is fixed!
Cursed be the wine-cup! thrice accursed be he
Who for his fellow-man hath poison mixed!
"My child! oh, Heaven send pity from above!
He turns upon me such strange wistful eyes;
I press his lips, with all my deep strong love,—
Striving to hold him back from Paradise.
He turns upon me such strange wistful eyes;
I press his lips, with all my deep strong love,—
Striving to hold him back from Paradise.
"In vain! the angels call! oh, cruel Death!
My husband! Come! he's dying, he,—our—own!
One feeble sigh,—gone is the fluttering breath!
Great God! 'tis o'er, and I am all alone.
My husband! Come! he's dying, he,—our—own!
One feeble sigh,—gone is the fluttering breath!
Great God! 'tis o'er, and I am all alone.
"My darling one! my beautiful! my bright!
Gone home ere sorrow in thy breast was born,—
I follow thee, I see the beckoning light
On heavenly shores! I go to greet the Morn."
Gone home ere sorrow in thy breast was born,—
I follow thee, I see the beckoning light
On heavenly shores! I go to greet the Morn."
Wild the cold winds roared on; the drifting snow
Wove for the mother and her babe a shroud;
The drunkard lingered in the wine's red glow,
Where on the air fell laughter long and loud.
Wove for the mother and her babe a shroud;
The drunkard lingered in the wine's red glow,
Where on the air fell laughter long and loud.
The eastern heavens blushed with rosiest light,
The crimson day across the Orient broke;
In the calm land where faith is changed to sight,
The mother and her angel child awoke.
The crimson day across the Orient broke;
In the calm land where faith is changed to sight,
The mother and her angel child awoke.