Poems (Crandall)/Why

by Rosa Neil Crandall

The Serpent

Dark and limy, through the ages
  Runs a glittering serpent's trail;
Drenched with blood and tears of anguish,
  Ringing with the mournful wail
Of lost souls, forever crying,
    "Woe—woe—woe."

Woe, alas! to every creature
  Blighted with his poisonous breath;
Eyes like flame from deep perdition,
  Spreading jaws,—the jaws of death.
At our very doors he's lying,
    Woe—woe—woe.

Hydra-headed monster, darting
  Many thousand fiery tongues;
Dragging down the brightest, bravest;
  Seeking out the fair, the young;
Ever new allurements trying.
    Woe—woe—woe.

Charms he with the Devils cunning,
  See the crowds that gather near,
Fawn upon the hideous reptile.
  Laughing maidens know no fear.
Hear they not sad voices sighing
    Woe—woe—woe?

But the One who heeds the crying
  Of lost man, has heard the wail,
Marked each drop of blood and anguish
  On the glittering Serpent's trail;
Seen each wretched drunkard dying.
    Woe—woe—woe.

And the sword of wrath uplifted
  Gleams above the fearful gloom;
Fall it must. Oh, mighty serpent,
  You are hastening to your doom.
Hear the voice of judgment crying,
    Woe—woe—woe.