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Poem by John Pierpont


Farewell the Bowl


Farewell to the cup, we have tarried too long,
Where the juice of the grape adds its witch'ry to song.
And the thoughts that flow'd freely are sombre and dull,
Our brains become heavy, farewell to the bowl,
Farewell, farewell, farewell, farewell to the bowl.

Oh, tarry no longer where joy flies away,
The heart and the soul lose their richest array,
Where eye mocketh eye, as unmeaning they roll,
The tongue whispers follyfarewell to the bowl.

Oh, think, if the maiden, who smiles in thine eyes,
Once saw thy proud mind in this shameful disguise;
Her heart would reject thee, how sadly her soul
Would pity and leave theeoh, flee from the bowl.

Oh think, e'er the moment of thinking is past,
And chains of the mighty upon thee are cast!
Returnere the iron shall enter thy soul,
And the dregs of thy lifea curse on the bowl.



John Pierpont


John Pierpont's other poems:
  1. Death of Charles Follen
  2. Christian's Duty to Attempt the Salvation of Drunkards
  3. Evening Prayer for a Child
  4. Her Chosen Spot
  5. The Temperance Crew


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