Twelve Thousand Barrels
By Rev. U. G. Foote
A few days ago a gentleman pointed out a bonded warehouse to me, and remarked that it contained twelve thousand barrels of whisky. I began to think:— 12,000 barrels of liquid woe,
Breeding anguish in its flow;
12,000 barrels of hell on earth,
Cursing the day of many a birth
12,000 barrels of frenzied mind,
Scorning the laws of human kind;
12,000 barrels of blind deceit,
Snaring the paths of youthful feet;
12,000 barrels of sisters' tears
Rolling down through coming years;
12,000 barrels of brothers' blight,
12,000 barrels of stormiest night;
12,000 barrels of heaviest sighs,
12,000 barrels of broken ties;
12,000 barrels of cunning lies,
12,000 barrels of orphans' cries;
12,000 barrels of pressing cares,
12,000 barrels of widows' tears;
12,000 barrels made of staves,
12,000 barrels of drunkards' graves;
12,000 barrels of intense pain,
12,000 barrels of terror's reign;
12,000 barrels of impure thoughts,
12,000 barrels of broken hearts;
12,000 barrels of honor vain,
12,000 barrels of blackest stain;
12,000 barrels of bloody knives,
12,000 barrels of ruined lives;
12,000 barrels of—I'll say—well,
12,000 barrels of death and hell. —Rev. U. G. Foote, Temperance Cause.