Ho! ho! Father Death! I have won you another! <br />Another grand soul I have ruined and taken; <br />I, who am licensed by good Christian people, <br />Eat and eat at their souls till by angels forsaken: <br />I spoil them, I soil them, and past all reclaiming <br />They fall, sick with sins that are too black for naming. <br /> <br /> <br />Ho! ho! Father Death! count me as your best man: <br />I bring you more souls than famine or battle. <br />Let pestilence rage! it will last but a season, <br />And the soft voice of peace stills the cannon's loud rattle; <br />But I, pausing never, with ceaseless endeavor, <br />Night and day, day and night, I am toiling for ever. <br /> <br /> <br />Ho! ho! Father Death! I have brought you my thousands: <br />Good people help me, license, uphold me, <br />Gaze on some victim I stole from their household- <br />Gaze, and upbraid the foul demon that sold me. <br />Ah! but they helped him-argued and voted <br />Till license was granted, and I was promoted. <br /> <br /> <br />Ho! ho! Father Death! is he not a grand victim? <br />I bring you souls that are well worth the winning- <br />Noble and brave, with the rare gifts of heaven; <br />But I eat them away and pollute them with sinning. <br />Now, but for me there would be few above him, <br />Honored and prized by the dear ones who love him.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/alcohol-s-requiem-upon-prof-p-f-k-a-gifted-man-who-died-a-victim-of-strong-drink/
