The Empty Bottle. William Aytoun
Ah, liberty! how like thou art
To this large bottle lying here,
Which yesterday from foreign mart,
Came filled with potent English beer!
A touch of steel—a hand—a gush—
A pop that sounded far and near—
A wild emotion—liquid rush—
And I had drunk that English beer!
And what remains?—An empty shell!
A lifeless form both sad and queer,
A temple where no god doth dwell—
The simple memory of beer!
The Death of Doctor Morrison. Bentley’s Miscellany
What’s the news?—Why, they say Death has killed Dr. Morrison. The Pill-maker? Yes. Then Death will be sorry soon.