COME listen awhile to me, my lad; Come listen to me for a spell; Let that terrible drum For a moment be dumb, For your uncle is going to tell What befell A youth who loved liquor too well. A clever young man was he, my lad; And with beauty uncommonly blest, Ere, with brandy and wine, He began to decline, And behaved like a person possessed; I protest The temperance plan is the best. One evening he went to a tavern, my lad; He went to a tavern one night, And drinking too much Rum, brandy, and such. The chap got exceedingly "tight;" And was quite What your aunt would entitle a fright. The fellow fell into a snooze, my lad; 'T is a horrible slumber he takes; He trembles with fear, And acts very queer; My eyes! how he shivers and shakes When he wakes, And raves about horrid great snakes! 'T is a warning to you and to me, my lad; A particular caution to all, -- Though no one can see The vipers but he, -- To hear the poor lunatic bawl: -- "How they craw! -- All over the floor and the wall!" Next morning he took to his bed, my lad; Next morning he took to his bed; And he never got up To dine or to sup, Though properly physicked and bled; And I read, Next day, the poor fellow was dead! You've heard of the snake in the grass my lad; Of the viper concealed in the grass; But now, you must know, Man's deadliest foe Is a snake of a different class; Alas! -- 'T is the viper that lurks in the glass! A warning to you and to me, my lad; A very imperative call: Of liquor keep clear; Don't drink even beer, If you'd shun all occasion to fall; If at all, Pray take it uncommonly small. And if you are partial to snakes, my lad (A passion I think rather low), Don't enter, to see 'em, The Devil's Museum! -- 'T is very much better to go (That's so!) And visit a regular show! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD MAN AND JIM by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE SAD MOTHER by KATHARINE TYNAN NELL COOK; A LEGEND OF THE 'DARK ENTRY': THE KING'S SCHOLAR'S STORY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM IN THE ST. GOTTHARDT PASS by MATHILDE BLIND IT WAS DEEP APRIL by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 11 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |