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Show WOMEN AND WINE. BY MARY KYLE DALLAS. Pop! went tho gay cork flying, Simrkled thftijay cliumpagm;, By tho lijtht of dny that wus dying, Ho 11 Hid un thtir gobblets sguin. Lot the lhst, beat toast bo woman, ' "Omun, dear woman." said ho, Empty your glass, my darling, When you drink to your sex with me." But sho caught his Btrong brown fingers, And held thorn tight at in fear, And threugh the gathering twilight Her fond voice full on his oar: "Nay, ore you drink, I implore you, By all that you hold divine, Plodgo a woman in tear drops, Rathur by fur than in wine." By the woes of tho drunkard's mother, By tho children that bug for bruad, By tho face of her whose beloved ono Looks on the wine whon 'tis red, By tho kisses changed to curstis, By tho toarB more bittor than brine, By many a fond heart broken, Pledgo no woman in wino. What ha ulnfl limi-urM in titimii u n f Nothing but toars and pain, It lias tern from bor heart her lover, And proven her prayers in vain; And her household goods all Bcatlero3, Lio tangled up in tho vino; Oh! I prilhua pledge no woman 1 In tho curs of so many wine. |