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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539531" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>King Whiskey</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">King Whishey's father down in Hell,<br> He rubbed his hands with glee,<br>'My son on earth is doing well,<br> Extremely well,' said he;<br>'Pile up the logs upon the blaze<br> And let the furnace roar,<br>Another batch of Whiskey's slaves<br> Is hammering at the door.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The flames shot up a brilliant red,<br> The grid was white with heat,<br>A basting pot of boiling lead<br> Was placed on every seat.<br>'Ha, ha,' said Satan, 'this is neat;<br> We have no cause to fear<br>That they'll complain they did not meet<br> A warm reception here.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">King Whiskey sat upon his throne,<br> His courtiers standing round,<br>All meek, subservient in tone,<br> They bowed them to the ground.<br>In tribute then they handed up<br> Their stores of golden wealth,<br>And from the reeking poison cup<br> They drank King Whiskey's health!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And out beyond the palace gates<br> The wives and mothers stand,<br>And, breadless, loudly curse the fates<br> That whiskey rules the land.<br>The courtiers dimly hear the cry,<br> But Whiskey dulls their ears,<br>'Fill up, let revelry run high,<br> We'll drown these childish fears!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And men there are in Whiskey's land<br> Complaining times are bad<br>And money getting scarcer and<br> But little to be had;<br>And yet however bad is trade<br> And things however flat,<br>King Whiskey's tribute must be paid,<br> They can't go short of that!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">King Whiskey's courtiers soon grow old,<br> And tribute's falling short,<br>The strength is gone, the blood is cold<br> The once clear mind distraught!<br>And demons, imps, and grinning apes.<br> And glaring reptiles yell,<br>And loathsome forms and fearsome shapes<br> All point the road to Hell!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But Whiskey's court is bright and gay.<br> Nor do the ranks grow thin,<br>For as the old are borne away<br> The younger ones come in.<br>King Whiskey's father down in Hell,<br> He rubs his hands with glee,<br>'My son on earth is doing well,<br> Extremely well,' says he.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Thomas+Goodge">William Thomas Goodge</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539531" data-title="King Whiskey de William Thomas Goodge" data-description="King Whishey's father down in Hell,
 He rubbed his hands with glee,
'My son on earth is doing well,
 Extremely well,' said he;
'Pile up the logs upon the blaze
 And let the furnace roar,
Another batch of Whiskey's slaves
 Is hammering at the door...."></div>
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