|The crime of talking still is prevalent;
The tongue still wags unwearily along;
The voice still utters speech of darkest wrong,
While hearts too often are on malice bent.
The idle brain some devilish thoughts invents,
While careful rumor spreads the guess along,
Till mouths and ears are filled with hurtful song___
However grave, of course no evil meant.
And yet the cost no money e'er could pay;
The grief no antidote could e'er assuage,
Whose damage time and labor ne'er repair;
All sunk beneath a starless night, no ray
Of hope to brighten up life's rugged page___
But on and down, the victim meets despair.
__James A. DeMoss
James A. DeMoss
(Thayer, Kansas: ___. 1892)