THE RUM MANIAC. But the hands that were played Were quite frightful to see— Till at last he put down a right bower, Then I looked up at Nye, And he gazed upon me; And he rose with a sigh, And said, "Can this be? We are ruined by Chinese cheap labour." In the scene that ensued I did not take a hand, But the floor it was strewed Like the leaves on the strand With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding, In his sleeves, which were long, Yet I state but the facts; And we found on his nails, which were taper, Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar : Which the same I am free to maintain. THE RUM MANIAC. 105 Bret Harte. "SAY, doctor, may I not have rum, And cannot get one drop of gin. Life! what a curse it's been to me!' I'd rather sink in deepest hell, Than drink again its misery. 106 THE RUM MANIAC. "But, doctor, may I not have rum? Who gave me first the poison'd bowl, Does no one hear?-will no one come? But rum I must have-will have rum! * * * * Ah! now he's gone; once more I'm free: He said that he would take off me Down to -But, there! my bed's on fire! R LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. "Fire! water! help! Come, haste—I'll die; 107 Look there-he peeps through yonder crack; Mark how his burning eyeballs flash! How fierce he grins! What brought him back? "There stands his burning coach of fire ; He smiles, and beckons me to come. What are those words he's written there? In hell we never want for rum!" One loud, one piercing shriek was heard; One yell rang out upon the air; One sound, and one alone, came forthThe victim's cry of wild despair. "Why longer wait? I'm ripe for hell; A spirit's sent to bear me down. There, in the regions of the lost, I sure will wear a fiery crown. Damned, I know, without a hope! (One moment more, and then I'll come !) And there I'll quench this awful thirst With boiling, burning, fiery rum!" LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. A CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound, "Now who be ye would cross Lochgyle, "And fast before her father's men Allison 108 LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. "His horsemen hard behind us ride; Outspoke the hardy Highland wight: "And, by my word, the bonny bird So, though the waves are raging white, By this the storm grew loud apace, But still, as wilder blew the wind, "Oh! haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, But not an angry father." The boat has left a stormy land, When oh! too strong for human hand, And still they rowed amidst the roar Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore- For sore dismay'd, through storm and shade, One lovely arm she stretch'd for aid, And one was round her lover PARRHASIUS. "Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!-oh my daughter!" 'Twas vain the loud waves lash'd the shore, The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting. 109 Campbell. PARRHASIUS. Parrhasius, a painter of Athens, amongst those Olynthian captives Philip of Macedon brought home to sell, bought one very old man; and when he had him at his house, put him to death with extreme torturo and torment, the better to express the pains and passions of his Prometheus, whom he was then about to paint.-Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy." THE golden light into the painter's room Streamed richly, and the hidden colours stole Fell the grotesque, long shadows, full and true, Parrhasius stood, gazing forgetfully Were like the winged god's breathing from his flight. |