The Brooklet reciter for temperance societies and bands of hope (Google eBook)

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1883
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Page 4 - I've licenses renewed." The thoughtful child was silent Then gravely said: "In this, I must confess, papa, dear, I think you've done amiss! For first you sent to prison The wretched, drunken men, Then license public houses, To make them drunk again! " The father looked at Norah, And Norah looked at him; The child was too keen-sighted, The father's eyes too dim! Awhile he stroked his whiskers, Then musingly he said " 'Tis time that little maidens Should all be safe in bed!
Page 4 - Half feared his clever child. And now he spoke in banter : " To bed has gone the sun, The hours of toil are ended. And what has Norah done ? " ' To-day, pa, in an essay, I've Freedom's flag unfurled ! I've toured across my atlas, And roamed o'er half the world ! To-night, o'er Lindley Murray A...
Page 92 - ... caused woes by him Whose vows of love her youth beguiled ; A drunkard's wife, a drunkard's child Are doomed to want and penury grim. This night the mother's heart was wrung : She saw, by dim light, faintly shed, Oh, grief ! beside her darling's bed A little empty stocking hung ! And she had naught to fill it left ! No little toy, for childish treat ; No golden orange, juicy, sweet, By him for drink, of all bereft ! She slept that night, 'twas misery's sleep. Till Christmas carols sweet, and clear,...
Page 4 - To make them drunk again !" The father looked at Norah, And Norah looked at him ; The child was too keen-sighted, The father's eyes too dim ! Awhile he stroked his whiskers, Then, musingly, he said " 'Tis time that little maidens Should all be safe in bed...
Page 93 - Oh, loving mother ! tender wife, Whose hand upholds the wine-cup red, * Yet seest no cause for future dread, Know this that wine with woe is rife ! He drank and fell, and thou dost blame ; Hath not the cup the selfsame sting? When thou thy stone at him doth fling, Remember ! Thine may do the same ! HARRIET A. GLAZEBROOK.
Page 91 - Oh, welcorrfe snow ! glad sport in store ! " And watched the snow-storm from the door ; " Hard winter ! " many a poor heart sighed. The children's hearts beat gay and light ; Gathered around the Christmas tree, Or on a parent's loving knee ; For Santa Claus would come to-night ! And dainty hands with loving care 'Mid prattling of each childish tongue O'er downy pillows stockings hung, That Santa Claus might find them there. Oh, light and shade ! The artist hand Must mingle tints of every hue To paint...
Page 26 - Babel noise Of the strange and elfish children, ragged Arab girls and boys, I sought the little dwelling, and I proved the vision true. But the footsteps of the tempter met, alas ! my saddened view, Pattering from the glaring dram-shop came the children's shoeless feet, And the poisoned draught they carried, to their youthful lips, was sweet ; For no temperance tongue had taught them to eschew the cup of woe, As a sure and certain channel through which countless dangers flow.
Page 56 - I LOVE THEE MUCH BETTER, I'll give up my glass of beer now, and no more of Strong Drink I'll partake, Because 'tis so pleasant to serve Thee ! I'll give it up, Lord, for Thy sake ! And I know, with Thy blessing, O Lord, my strength will be daily renewed ; And my coffee and tea shall excel, all the very best beer ever brewed.
Page 26 - From which drink in vain would lure them, but their feet sink not to stray ; And to tell the pale worn mothers, of the tempter's many wiles, Speaking words of friendly counsel, changing weary sighs to smiles ! Then, come forth, ye true abstainers, here is work for you to do, Not in vain must each one nightly, solemn vows like yours renew. Lo ! the crowd...
Page 92 - ... The children's hearts beat gay and light ; Gathered around the Christmas tree, Or on a parent's loving knee ; For Santa Claus would come to-night ! And dainty hands with loving care 'Mid prattling of each childish tongue O'er downy pillows stockings hung, That Santa Claus might find them there. Oh, light and shade ! The artist hand Must mingle tints of every hue To paint a picture stern and true The joys and miseries of a land. Then turn to sorrow's haunt, thy gaze ! A dim light o'er a garret...

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