For the Columbian Fountain
The Druakard's Wife.
{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p2", "byline": "BY REV. NEWTON HEsToN."}
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G@s BY REV. NEWTON HESToN.
| saw her when happy GIRL


Twas then the rosy morn of youth;
And her hands were raised to unfurl Ft


The pennant of life's early truth. sa
saw her next virgin fair,


In innocence and beauty bright,
The zephyrs playing with her hair, sIl
And round her beaming homes sunlight.
saw her loyed-that love return,
And pour her souls devotion on F.
Z The altar of its hopes, where burn RI


The fires Of faith and truth anon:
And next saw her at the shrine


OF holy matrimony bending
She whispered softly, III be thine
.$ It'll life, its fire shall be spendingl'
She ne'er forgot that solemn VOW;


And when the storm and tempest came,
She said, Can forget thee now,
When men speak evil Of thy name'
Nay, I'll not forsake thee dearest,


Tho scathng lightnings flash around
And iife's buoyant joys the brightest, '4
M Should fall like fow'rs upon the ground !'
saw her then-O! fearful thought


drunkard's broken-hearted wife
And every thing around was fraught $50


With miseries of human life. t#l hns
heard her ragged children cry, .gai.
And saw them shiyering in the cold:
They could not tell the reason why
rTha;r III ~ bo,,.,l IN -. 1.a- l.l
saw her next widow sad


Her husband in the drunkard's grave
In bitter tears of sorrow clad,


For these were all that she could save
All else but sighs and tears and groans e
Had ruthessly been torn away b
In tender lone, these music moans,',


TIE dealer out Of death /" let stay!
llookd again, and she was dying;


Life's energies could stand no more
And near her bed grim death deserving,


She smiled to think her sorrows DER.
heard her then one long sigh give. ,Jz
Twas grief's signal Of departure, @
From one who would not always live


Thus she spoke in deaths last torture:
The scenes that once shone round me bright
Ri Are fading now in midnight gloom,
While every thing that meets my sight


Reveals the grave as soon my doom.
would not stay for ever here,


poor and broken-hearted thing
fain would die, and wander where


Despair spreads not its raven wing"
5rH JAN, 1916.