February’s poem

William McGonagall, “The Demon Drink”:

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Oh, thou demon Drink, thou fell destroyer;

Thou curse of society, and its greatest annoyer.

What hast thou done to society, let me think?

I answer thou hast caused the most of ills, thou demon Drink.

Thou causeth the mother to neglect her child,

Also the father to act as he were wild,

So that he neglects his loving wife and family dear,

By spending his earnings foolishly on whisky, rum and beer.

And after spending his earnings foolishly he beats his wife –

The man that promised to protect her during life –

And so the man would if there was no drink in society,

For seldom a man beats his wife in a state of sobriety.

And if he does, perhaps he finds his wife fou’,

Then that causes, no doubt, a great hullaballo;

When he finds his wife drunk he begins to frown,

And in a fury of passion he knocks her down.

And in that knock down she fractures her head,

And perhaps the poor wife she is killed dead,

Whereas, if there was no strong drink to be got,

To be killed wouldn’t have been the poor wife’s lot.

Then the unfortunate husband is arrested and cast into jail,

And sadly his fate he does bewail;

And he curses the hour that ever was born,

And paces his cell up and down very forlorn.

And when the day of his trial draws near,

No doubt for the murdering of his wife he drops a tear,

And he exclaims, “Oh, thou demon Drink, through thee I must die,”

And on the scaffold he warns the people from drink to fly,

Because whenever a father or a mother takes to drink,

Step by step on in crime they do sink,

Until their children loses all affection for them,

And in justice we cannot their children condemn.

The man that gets drunk is little else than a fool,

And is in the habit, no doubt, of advocating for Home Rule;

But the best Home Rule for him, as far as I can understand,

Is the abolition of strong drink from the land.

And the men that get drunk in general wants Home Rule;

But such men, I rather think, should keep their heads cool,

And try and learn more sense, I most earnestly do pray,

And help to get strong drink abolished without delay.

If drink was abolished how many peaceful homes would there be,

Just, for instance in the beautiful town of Dundee;

then this world would be heaven, whereas it’s a hell,

An the people would have more peace in it to dwell.

Alas! strong drink makes men and women fanatics,

And helps to fill our prisons and lunatics;

And if there was no strong drink such cases wouldn’t be,

Which would be a very glad sight for all Christians to see.

O admit, a man may be a very good man,

But in my opinion he cannot be a true Christian

As long as he partakes of strong drink,

The more that he may differently think.

But no matter what he thinks, I say nay,

For by taking it he helps to lead his brother astray,

Whereas, if he didn’t drink, he would help to reform society,

And we would soon do away with all inebriety.

Then, for the sake of society and the Church of God,

Let each one try to abolish it at home and abroad;

Then poverty and crime would decrease and be at a stand,

And Christ’s Kingdom would soon be established throughout the land.

Therefore, brothers and sisters, pause and think,

And try to abolish the foul fiend, Drink.

Let such doctrine be taught in church and school,

That the abolition of strong drink is the only Home Rule.

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There is a lot of truth in this poem.

December’s poem

“Descriptive Jottings of London”:

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As I stood upon London Bridge and viewed the mighty throng / Of thousands of people in cabs and ’busses rapidly whirling along, / All furiously driving to and fro, / Up one street and down another as quick as they could go:

Then I was struck with the discordant sound of human voices there, / Which seemed to me like wild geese cackling in the air: / And the river Thames is a most beautiful sight, / To see the steamers sailing upon it by day and by night.

And the Tower of London is most gloomy to behold, / And the crown of England lies there, begemmed with precious stones and gold; / King Henry the Sixth was murdered there by the Duke of Glo’ster, / And when he killed him with his sword he called him an impostor.

St. Paul’s Cathedral is the finest building that ever I did see, / There’s no building can surpass it in the city of Dundee, / Because it’s magnificent to behold, / With its beautiful dome and spire glittering like gold.

And as for Nelson’s Monument that stands in Trafalgar Square, / It is a most stately monument I most solemnly declare, / And towering defiantly very high, / Which arrests strangers’ attention while passing by.

Then there’s two beautiful water-fountains spouting up very high, / Where the weary traveller can drink when he feels dry; / And at the foot of the monument there’s three bronze lions in grand array, / Enough to make the stranger’s heart throb with dismay.

Then there’s Mr Spurgeon, a great preacher, which no one dare gainsay, / I went to hear him preach on the Sabbath-day, / And he made my heart feel light and gay, / When I heard him preach and pray.

And the Tabernacle was crowded from ceiling to floor, / And many were standing outside the door; / He is an eloquent preacher I honestly declare, / And I was struck with admiration as on him I did stare.

Then there’s Petticoat Lane I venture to say, / It’s a wonderful place on the Sabbath-day; / There wearing-apparel can be bought to suit the young or old, / For the ready cash, silver, coppers, or gold.

Oh! mighty city of London! you are wonderful to see, / And thy beauties no doubt fill the tourist’s heart with glee; / But during my short stay, and while wandering there, / Mr Spurgeon was the only man I heard speaking proper English I do declare.

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(William McGonagall)