Some Will Read a Sang that Winna Read a Sermon.

Evening Star, Issue 7875, 6 April 1889, Page 1 (Supplement)

Some Will Read a Sang that Winna Read a Sermon.

There is a Bubutb in the east That's been prayed for by lay and priest; It's full of joinery, plumbers, slaters, Counter-jumpers, bagmen, waiters, Wlia meet in conclave every night, And play at cards, and swear, and fight, Jfaoh has a hobby of his own, And rides it well o'er wood and stone. Then someone swears that wrong is right, And calls his chum a blooming yite; The chum turns roun wi' blusterin' storm, And calls his friend a blastet worm, A pair bit fozy lookin' sinner, Wha'd pit an auld soo frae it's dinner. It's thus they fecht wi' bites and snatches, i'md souther a' in deep debauches; Then efter twal gang staggering' hame, Whaur sits their puir dejected dame; Wha's waited up all tremblin', f earin' Her life will shin be past the bearin'. At last he rings the front door bell; " Wha's there ?" she cries. " It's me mysell." Wae tremblin' hand she opes the door, When in the beast fa's on the floor. He grumphs and groans and loudly roare, Then falls asleep and loudly snores; And in the morning up he gets, Aud tae the cave at once he sets, T&e pick him up and tae pick him doon, And loavo him wi' his pooohes toom. And this is done nine days in ten By people wha's called gentlemen; They bring home men with them at night They would not speak to in daylight. But if they'll only pause and think, They'd turn their back upon the drink, And gie up a' these mad carooseß, And shun these dens, the public-houses, And stay at home beside the wife, And save all family feuds and strife. Their life would then be worth the living, Their mite would then be worth the giving, And then the snug, warm, cosy hearth, Is just a blink of heaven on earth. The bairnies a' wid brichter be, Tae sit upon their dada's knee And hear hoo Bruce and Wallace bled, And hoo the English Army fled, Aud hoo King Edward's horse in turn Were killed in pits at Bannockburn. The wee tots then wid gird their sword, And then tae see them—by my word ! Get on their steeds wi' gleefu' rush, Well mounted on the sweepin' brush. The mither lauchs tae see hor weans Enjoy themsels wi' ribbon reins; The faither minds wi' conscious pride That day he got her for his bride— A bonnie, bloomin', strappin' queen As ever stapt on shaw or green. She's pleased tae see she's no neglected, And that her man is noo respected, And gien up a' his cursin', swearin', For words polite and mair endearin'. He's left the cave, he's left the green, And at the corner ne'er is seen; The barnacles have left his nose, He steady tae the temple goes. He mixes noo wi' health and rank, Ilia credit's better at the bank; His hale life noo is hoo tae please; Tho very &>t seems mair at ease. It sits and purrs, and sings its sang, And uees he's noo an altered man ; But some still tr>' tae quench the fire, Like they wallow in the mire. Like pigs, they speak; like pigs, they act, Unmindful of the dreadful fact That they must go as well's the lave And help tae fill a drunkard's grave. The time will come, as sure as face, Return before it be too lite; This warning now t) you I give, Come Uy from Hell to Heaven, and live. —"Jkems," in the '.Stirlingshire Advertiser.'