BY THE AUTHOR OF "WOMAN TO THE RESCUE."
- "Three Years in a Man-Trap,"
- "Cast Adrift,"
- "Orange Blossoms, Fresh and Faded,"
- "Gentle Hand,"
- "Ten Nights in a Bar-Room,"
- And many others.
For Particulars, Price, etc., see Catalogue at end of this Book.
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IN THE STRONGHOLD.
WOMAN TO THE RESCUE. A STORY OF THE NEW CRUSADE.
ByT. S. ARTHUR.
PHILADELPHIA: J. M. STODDART & CO. CINCINNATI: QUEEN CITY PUBLISHING CO. CHICAGO: J. S. GOODMAN. NEW YORK: DOUGLASS & MYERS. BOSTON: GEO. M. SMITH & CO. SAN FRANCISCO: A. L. BANCROFT & CO.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by J. M. STODDART & CO., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. Westcott & Thomson, Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada. Sherman & Co., Printers, Philada.
- "Go, feel what I have felt,
- Go, bear what I have borne;
- Sink 'neath a blow a father dealt,
- And the cold, proud world's scorn.
- Thus struggle on from year to year,
- Thy sole relief the scalding tear.
- "Go, weep as I have wept
- O'er a loved father's fall;
- See every cherished promise swept,
- Youth's sweetness turned to gall;
- Hope's faded flowers strewed all the way
- That led me up to woman's day.
- "Go, kneel as I have knelt;
- Implore, beseech, and pray,
- Strive the besotted heart to melt,
- The downward course to stay;
- Be cast with bitter curse aside,—
- Thy prayers burlesqued, thy tears defied.
- "Go, stand where I have stood,
- And see the strong man bow;
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- With gnashing teeth, lips bathed in blood,
- And cold and livid brow;
- Go catch his wandering glance, and see
- There mirrored his soul's misery.
- "Go, hear what I have heard,—
- The sobs of sad despair,
- As memory's feeling fount hath stirred,
- And its revealings there
- Have told him what he might have been,
- Had he the drunkard's fate foreseen.
- "Go to thy mother's side,
- And her crushed spirit cheer;
- Thine own deep anguish hide,
- Wipe from her cheek the tear;
- Mark her dimmed eye, her furrowed brow,
- The gray that streaks her dark hair now,
- The toil-worn frame, the trembling limb,
- And trace the ruin back to him
- Whose plighted faith, in early youth,
- Promised eternal love and truth,
- But who, forsworn, hath yielded up
- This promise to the deadly cup,
- And led her down from love and light,
- From all that made her pathway bright,
- And chained her there, 'mid want and strife,
- That lowly thing,—a drunkard's wife!
- And stamped on childhood's brow, so mild,
- That withering blight,—a drunkard's child!
- "Go, hear, and see, and feel, and know
- All that my soul hath felt and known,
- Then look within the wine-cup's glow;
- See if its brightness can atone;
- Think if its flavor you would try
- If all proclaimed, 'Tis drink and die.
- "Tell me I hate the bowl,—
- Hate is a feeble word;
- I loathe, abhor, my very soul
- By strong disgust is stirred
- Whene'er I see, or hear, or tell
- Of the DARK BEVERAGE OF HELL!
