Oh! it were sad he must die all alone: That of all his friends, not even one Was there to list to his last faint moan, Or point the suffering soul to the throne Of grace. If, perchance, God's only Son Would say, "Whosoever will may come." But we hasten to draw a veil over the scene, With his God we leave him--only sixteen. Only sixteen.
Rumseller, come view the work you have wrought: Witness the suffering and pain you have brought To the poor boy's friends. They loved him well, And yet you dared the vile beverage to sell That beclouded his brain, his reason dethroned, And left him to die out there all alone. What if 'twere _your_ son instead of another? What if your wife were that poor boy's mother, And he only sixteen?
Ye free-holders who signed the petition to grant The license to sell, do you think you will want That record to meet in the last great day, When the earth and the heavens shall have passed away, When the elements, melted with fervent heat, Shall proclaim the triumph of RIGHT complete? Will you wish to have his blood on your hands When before the great throne you each shall stand, And he only sixteen?
Christian men! rouse ye to stand for the right, To action and duty; into the light Come with your banners, inscribed "Death to rum." Let your conscience speak. Listen, then, come; Strike killing blows; hew to the line; Make it a felony even to sign A petition to license; you would do it, I ween, If that were your son, and "only sixteen," Only sixteen.
_Patrick._ Well, Captain, whereabouts in the wide world _are_ we? Is it Roosia, Proosia, or the Jarmant oceant?
_Patrick._ Tare and ouns! do you tell me so? and how do you know it's France, Captain dear?
_Captain._ Because we were on the coast of the Bay of Biscay when the vessel was wrecked.
_Patrick._ Throth, I was thinkin' so myself. And now, Captain jewel, it is I that wishes we had a gridiron.
_Captain._ Why, Patrick, what puts the notion of a gridiron into your head?
_Patrick._ Because I'm starving with hunger, Captain dear.
_Captain._ Surely you do not intend to eat a gridiron, do you?
_Patrick._ Ate a gridiron; bad luck to it! no. But if we had a gridiron, we could dress a beefsteak.
_Captain._ Yes; but where's the beefsteak, Patrick?