The Happy Change Poem by John Critchley Prince

'Oh! will he come?' said Alice Wray,
'He did not once deceive,
And for the dear sake of the past
I will again believe.'
So faithful Alice trimmed the hearth,
And made the kettle sing,
Responsive to the cricket's voice
That made the cottage ring.

Fair Alice and her children three,
In clean, though poor attire,
Together chatted pleasantly
Beside the evening fire.
Hark! slowly beats the minster clock!
Be patient yet awhile,
Another brief half-hour, Alice,
Will make thee weep or smile.

She waited with a throbbing heart
Until the middle chime,
When William o'er the threshold stepped,
Hours ere his wonted time.
Sober, erect, and thoughtful, too,
He clasped his joyful wife,
Who deemed that sombre winter eve
The happiest of her life.

'I've vowed,' he cried, 'no more to touch
The cup of deadly ill;
God! help me to retrieve the past
With well-directed will!
And now, dear wife, let us partake
The food which God has blessed.'
And never was a frugal meal
Enjoyed with sweeter zest.

With reverent hands he oped the Page
He had not touched for years,
And read and wept, but found at last
Hope, comfort, in his tears.
Then the contented pair lay down
In peace, but newly won,
With the consoling consciousness
Of one great duty done.

And William swerved not; from that hour
He chose the better way,
And from the path of usefulness
Scarce had one thought to stray;
With speech, heart, soul, he strove to wean
The drunkard from his bane;
Nor were his labours profitless,
Nor were his teachings vain.

Few are the minds so prompt and firm
As this once-erring one;
Would there were more to help the frail,
Ere every hope is gone!
Blest be the cause for which they toil,
And may their power expand,
Till they have crushed the giant curse,
The nightmare of the land!