Drink.

I.     An English village, a summer scene,     A homely cottage, a garden green,     An opening vista, a cloudless sky,     A bee that hums as it passes by;     A babe that chuckles among the flowers,     A smile that enlivens the mid-day hours,     A wife that is fair as the sunny day,     A peace that the world cannot take away,     A hope that is humble and daily bread,     A thankful soul that is comforted,     A cosy cot and a slumbering child,     A life and a love that are undefiled,     A thought that is silent, an earnest prayer,     The noiseless step of a phantom there! II.     A drunken husband, a wailing wife;     Oh, a weary way is the way of life!     A heartless threat and a cruel blow     And grief that the world can never know;     A tongue obscene and a will perverse,     A horrid oath and a muttered curse,     A winter drear and a scanty meal,     A heart so hard, oh, a heart of steel!     A wizened look and an infant's cry,     The cold, cold clutch of Poverty,     A withered hand and a blanchd cheek,     Alone, and, ah, no friend to seek!     A chilly hearth and a ragged dress,     A home that is all heaviness! III.     A grim grey court in a City's gloom,     A frantic fear of eternal doom,     A wretch besotted and depraved     And cries that cursed the curse they craved,     Pollution all, no light! no light!     "Oh, where shall be my drink, to-night!"     A wretched garret, a straw-strewn bed,     A husband stretched in a corner--dead.     A shriek of anguish, a choking sigh,     "Oh let me perish, let me die!"     An agony of dire despair,     A picture of torn and dishevelled hair,     And none to succour, none to save,     A pauper's hearse and an early grave.     A voiceless widow, a wringing of hands,     A long, long wish for some far off sands,     A staring eye and a vacant mood,     "Oh Father, teach me to be good"     A strengthless effort, a feverish start,     A prostrate form and--a broken heart. IV.     A dismal eve and a howling dog,     A ghostly silence, a river fog,     A byway deserted, a dingy street,     A glimmer to light life's feeble feet.     A trembling step and a beaded brow,     "Oh where, oh where, shall I hasten now?"     No eye hath seen nor ever shall,     On, on in the gloom, to the still canal;     Hush, hush, a murmur--a fearful pause--     A footfall--oh horror; a slam of doors--     A sinking down to former repose,     "Oh darkness come and end my woes."     Away like a phantom, down far to the East,     "Oh when shall the weary and sad be released?"     An alley, a prayer, a soundless wharf,     A biting wind and a graveyard cough,     A heap of rags and a starving child,     Alas, alas for the undefiled!     A heavy tide and a moon obscured,     A shapeless mass of barges moored,     Nor light, nor sound and a flood that gapes,     A frowning pile of horrid shapes.     All darkness, blackness, deep despair,     "My burden is greater than I can bear!"     A rolling river, the dead of night,     A form all palsied with affright,     Alone, yes, alone, yet so afraid,     A hurried stride from that inky shade;     On over the barges away from the shore,     One breathless clasp, one long clasp more--     A heavy plunge and a gurgling groan,     Two clammy corpses cold as stone,     A brow distorted, a clenchd fist,     A babe the Lord Himself has kissed.