Such spirits as these, and many more I summon From many a poisoned tin, Or many a bottle falsely labelled "Gin." Or many a vial pathetic, Yclept "Synthetic." Like Dante on his joy-ride Seeing Hell, Fain would I take you down Through sulphurous fires and caverns bilious brown Into the Land of Mystery and Smell Where Satan steweth And home-breweth While thirsty hooch-hounds yell Their blackest curse, Or worse: "Vol-darn our souls with each Vol-blasted dram That burns our throats and isn't worth a dam! We drink, yet how we dread it-- Vol-stead it!" They've said it. II--_Short Intermission to Change Meter_ In Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-three A. Lincoln set the darkies free; In Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen A. Volstead muzzled the canteen And freed the millions, great and small, From bondage to King Alcohol. Was it not thoughtful, good and kind For such a man of such a mind To show an interest so grand In his misguided native land? And don't these statements illustrate Our Nation's progress up to date? We're freedom-loving and we're brave And simply cannot stand a slave. And when a crisis needs a man From Mass, or Tex. or Conn, or Kan. That man steps forward, firm of chin-- So Andrew Volstead came from Minn. He came from Minn, to show the world That gin is wrong And rye is strong And Scotch to limbo should be hurled. Thus with his spotless flag unfurled He went against the Demon Rum Who snarled, "I vum!" Got sort of numb, Rolled up his eyes, lay down and curled While all the saints of heaven above (Including Mr. Bryan's Dove) Cried "Rah-rah-rah! And siss-boom-ah! Three cheers for Health and Christian Love! But, Andrew dear-- Say, now, look here! You're not including wine and beer!" Then Andrew Volstead squared his chin And answered briefly, "Sin is sin." No compromise With the King of Lies! Both liquor thick and liquor thin We'll cease to tax And use the axe Invented by the Man from Minn. For right is right and wrong is wrong-- A spell has cursed the world too long.