Fiend of Alcohol, The
The pond'rous portals of the deepest cell
In the dark dungeons of profoundest hell,
Loud on their sounding hinges awful rung,
As, opening wide, spontaneously they swung;
And shed a fearful gloom, as back they rolled
Blacker than midnight's dusky robe, tenfold.
Forth from the gate, a sullen demon passed,
Before whose angry glance all stood aghast.
His hair was writhing streams of living flame
And from his eyeballs lurid lightnings came.
Streamed from his nostrils vapours dark and dense,
Burdened with death's devouring pestilence;
And the black pavements of despairing hell
Trembled where'r his giant footsteps fell;
His hideous form a mantle covered o'er,
Woven of living snakes and dyed in gore;
A cup of boiling venom held one hand,
While in the other waved a magic wand.
His voice was like the distant thunder's tone,
Or a deep-heaving earthquake's rending groan
And, at his look hell's proudest sons did fall,
Bow'd to the sateless FIEND OF ALCOHOL.
He glanced in scorn upon the crouching slaves,
Then turned his eyes along the gloomy caves,
And spoke,
“I speed my way to yon fair earth,
O'er her bright hills and valleys to go forth;
To win new laurels and a darker fame,
Than lingers round our chieftain's fearful name.
The cup of burning venom which I bear,
Is from yon fiery ocean of despair :
This will I give to man, which on his heart
Shall burn with with'ring strength, till life depart.
And when I wave my wand, its magic power
Shall make him seek the flames that will devour
With quenchless fury, his devoted soul,
Where death lurks grim within my fiery bowl.
If there was joy—a fierce wild joy in hell,
When first the sire of mortal beings fell,
Then there shall burst a wilder shout ofjoy,
When by a double victory I destroy
Heaven-favored man, and hurl his scornful race
Down midst the burnings of this horrid place,
To dwell forever in tormenting woe,
And curse his last, eternal overthrow.”
‘Twas thus he spoke; and as the echoes rung
Along the caves, the portals backward swung;
And swift upsoar'd the fiend of Alcohol,
On pinons dark as Egypt's gloomiest pall,
And wing'd his way through airless space where far,
The fair earth shone a dim and distant star,
Rejoicing with her sisters, through the heaven,
Scattering that light the sun to her had given;
Onward to our green valleys sped the fiend,
Where by a lofty forest was convened
Man's sinful race around a graceful vine —
Torturing its purple clusters into wine;
Awhile he hover'd o'er the lovely plain,
Where all was pure as erst, but erring man,
And scann'd the beauty of the scene below,
Soon to be marred by misery and woe —
Dashed in the press the venom of his cup,
Waved high his wand, and circling hurried up.
From the crushed grapes the ruddy juice did pour,
And all their vats with sparkling wine ran o'er:
Man saw, and deeply drank the foaming bowl,
And merry madness lit his haughty soul;
No more he stooped beside the purling rill,
That flow'd in crystal beauty from the hill,
To quench his thirst, but quaff'd the mad'ning cup
Whose tempting venom burned his vitals up,
And in his bosom lit another hell,
Whose rankling passions held dominion fell;
While Murder, Wrath, and Blasphemy and Hate,
Above the throne of conquered Reason sate.
Thus man in his Creator's image made,
Below the brute the Tempter did degrade,
And shouting in fierce joy above his fall,
Triumphed the sateless FIEND OF ALCOHOL.
Though hundreds fell by his devouring wrath,
And Joy and Plenty left his onward path,
And every pleasure at his look shrunk back,
While woes unnumbered followed in his track;
Yet man, spell-bound by his destroying charms,
Still clasp'd the foul deceiver in his arms,
Quaffed his red bowl, and counted him a friend,
And hasted onward to a fearful end
Years upon years successive rolled, nor ceased
That sullen fiend on souls of men to feast,
But more remorseless grew as man increased:
His gloomy pinions darkened every land,
And o'er each hill and valley waved his wand;
His burning bowl was poured alike to all,
None were too high and none too low to fall ;
"Twas his delight the fairest to destroy,
And dash his poison in their cup of joy—
Their hopes to disappoint and prospects blast,
And blight and mildew o'er their fields to cast.
The cot and palace felt alike his blight
And Death stalked grim where’er he winged hisflight;
He swept his way o’er mountain, hill and dale,
Breathing out pestilence on every gale.
From the old world he stretched his pinions wide,
Across the Atlantic’s darkly rolling tide;
The red man vanished from his gloomy path,
Like forest leaves before the whirlwind's wrath;
Slain by a deadlier and a mightier foe,
Than when Europa's thunder laid him low;
And wheresoe'er the dismal Fiend did reign,
Woe, Want, and Misery followed in his train.
On like a dark'ning thunder-cloud he sped,
Polluting Earth with his dishonored dead.
The noble-hearted, generous and brave,
Were hurled promiscuous to the drunkard's grave
And the fair homes of peace, as in an hour,
Were swept away before his blasting power,
Till wild Destruction revelled on the Earth,
And Ruin rushed with Desolation forth.
* * * * * * *
In a fair valley where a sparkling rill
Flow'd gently murmuring down a grassy hill,
Rejoicing in its foam along the wood,
A lovely, lonely, humble cottage stood,
Where dwelt a gentle pair whose hours were spent
In mutual toils, and smiling, sweet content,
There joys that kings might never know were found,
While Plenty all their willing labors crown'd;
Two blooming cherubs their pure love did bless,
And swelled to perfect bliss their happiness.
The heartless demon saw their cup of joy
Full to the brim, and hasted to destroy;
He gave the venom of his burning bowl,
And fiery madness seized the father's soul;
And he, the pride of that lone cottage home,
A loathsome, ruined drunkard did become,
Tears and entreaties, and a fond wife's prayers,
Could not redeem him from the spoiler's snares.
Their cup of joy was rudely dashed away,
And their fair dwelling sunk to swift decay.
No more that wife, in all her blushing charms,
Sprang to embrace him in her tender arms,
But in his absence bitterly she mourned,
And sat in silent fear when he returned.
The long and lonely hours of wasting woe,
Drove from her rosy cheek the ruddy glow,
Consumption feasted on the fading life
Of that fond mother and devoted wife,
And in her broken heart sat sighing grief,
‘Till Death in pity came to her relief.
Her two fair children, early taught to mourn
From their loved cot to distant homes were borne
And stranger hands, 'midst other scenes did rear,
Those who were once that mother's tenderest care.
The wretched father's fearful race was short,
For swift destruction had the Demon wrought,
Delirium seized upon his burning heart,
And from his soul did fiery phantoms start,
Around ten thousand demons seemed to rise,
And gibbering fiends danced wild before his eyes;
And e'en on earth, that fallen man knew well,
The death undying of horrific hell,
"Till the pale king, whose coming seemed too slow,
Sent his lost soul to everlasting woe.
The foul Fiend triumphed o'er bis fallen prey,
And hasted on more precious souls to slay.
Round the wide world he sped his rapid flight,
And rolled the nations in the depths of night,
Dispensing ruin through every land,
And sending misery on every hand,
‘Till in imagination, he could see,
The whole earth bend to him the suppliant knee.
Then did this fiendish wanderer from Hell.
Raise shouts of vict'ry as thousands fell,
Hurled down to regions of eternal woe,
And claim'd the glory of their overthrow.
While o'er his prey the demon did rejoice,
Shouting in triumph with an awful voice,
A gentle goddess, from the realms above,
Came down to earth upon her work of love,
Her steps were stately, on a thousand hills
And round her pathway, danced bright sparkling rills;
The light-winged zephyrs in her ringlets played,
And flowers sprang blushing up where'er she strayed,
Sorrow and Sadness, Want and Misery,
And Crime and Beggary from her presence flee.
The old waste places of the earth, once more,
Rose from their ruins, lovely as before,
And Plenty gave the bounty of her store.
Beauty and loveliness spread o'er the earth,
And exiled Virtue from her home looked forth.
Loud pæans rose from many a ransomed soul,
Snatched by the goddess from that Fiend's control
And conscious nature seemed, a voice of praise,
Up to her God's eternal throne to raise.
The demon shrunk all trembling from the light,
And lurked in darkness, and the realms of night,
And, thanks to Heaven, his race is almost run,
The foulest deeds upon the earth are done,
And soon the Fiend, in vengeance shall be hurled
Howling to hell, while o’er a ransomed world,
In every mountain, hill and rock, shall dance
THE SPOTLESS BANNER OF PURE TEMPERANCE.
- Title
- Fiend of Alcohol, The
- First Line
- The pond'rous portals of the deepest cell
- Creator
-
George Shepard Burleigh
- Bibliographic Citation
- George S. Burleigh Papers, 1825-1902. John Hay Library, Brown University. Small Scrapbook 1
- "For the Rhode Island Temperance Herald" - this citation has not yet been researched
- Date
- 1839
- Subject
- Temperance
- Native Americans
- Comments
- Likely his earliest published poem. He would have been 18 at the time. The month of this poem's completion is obscured by the page fold in the small notebook.
- One line is cut off in the Small Notebook. It is here transcribed "From cot to palace" but, if the original is found, it will need to be checked.
- It is interesting how the devestation of alcohol in Native American communities was known to him.
- Uses a pseudonym of "B."
- Media
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The Fiend of Alcohol