Here you will find the Poem The Tipler To His Bottle of poet George Moses Horton
What hast thou ever done for me? Defeated every good endeavor; I never can through life agree To place my confidence in thee, Not ever, no, never! Often have I thy steam admired, Thou nothing hast avail'd me ever; Vain have I thought myself inspired, Say, have I else but pain acquired? Not ever, no, never! No earthly good, no stream of health, Flows from thy fount, thou cheerful giver; From thee, affluence sinks to stealth, From thee I pluck no bloom of health, Whatever, no, never! Thou canst impart a nobel mind, Power from my tongue flows like a river; The gas flows dead, I'm left behind, To all that's evil down confined, To flourish more never! With thee I must through life complain, Thy powers at large will union sever; Disgorge no more thy killing bane, The bird hope flies from thee in pain, To return more never!
