"
WRONGS WE CAN NEVER UNDO.
(By Delle M. Mason.)
I have come home to you, mother. Father, your wayward son
Has come to himself at last, and knows the harm he has done.
I have bleached your hair out, father, more than the frosts of years;
I have dimmed your kind eyes, mother, by many tears.
Since I left you, father, to work the farm alone,
And bought a stock of liquors with what I called my own,
I've been ashamed to see you; I knew it broke you down,
To think you had brought up a boy to harm his native town.
I've given it all up, mother; I'll never sell it more.
I've smashed the casks and barrels, I've shut and locked the door.
I've signed the temperance pledge--the women stood and sang,
The clergymen gave three hearty cheers, and all the church bells rang.
But one thing seemed to haunt me, as I came home to you;
Of all the wrongs that I have done not one can I undo.
There's old Judge White, just dropping into a drunkard's grave;
I've pushed him down with every drop of brandy that I gave.
And there's young Tom Eliot--was such a trusty lad,
I made him drink the first hot glass of rum he ever had.
Since then, he drinks night after night, and acts a ruffian's part,
He has maimed his little sister, and broke his mother's heart.
And there is Harry Warner, who married Bessie Hyde,
He struck and killed their baby when it was sick, and cried,
And I poured out the poison, that made him strike the blow,
And Bessie raved and cursed me, she is crazy now, you know.
Pages:
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369