No, comrades, I thank you--not any for me;
My last chain is riven--henceforward I'm free!
I will go to my home and my children to-night
With no fumes of liquor their spirits to blight;
And, with tears in my eyes, I will beg my poor wife
To forgive me the wreck I have made of her life.
_I have never refused you before?_ Let that pass,
For I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.
Just look at me now, boys, in rags and disgrace,
With my bleared, haggard eyes, and my red, bloated face;
Mark my faltering step and my weak, palsied hand,
And the mark on my brow that is worse than Cain's brand;
See my crownless old hat, and my elbows and knees,
Alike, warmed by the sun, or chilled by the breeze.
Why, even the children will hoot as I pass;--
But I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.
You would hardly believe, boys, to look at me now
That a mother's soft hand was pressed on my brow--
When she kissed me, and blessed me, her darling, her pride,
Ere she lay down to rest by my dead father's side;
But with love in her eyes, she looked up to the sky
Bidding me meet her there and whispered "Good-bye."
And I'll do it, God helping! Your _smile_ I let pass,
For I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.
Ah! I reeled home last night, it was not very late,
For I'd spent my last sixpence, and landlords won't wait
On a fellow who's left every cent in their till,
And has pawned his last bed, their coffers to fill.
Oh, the torments I felt, and the pangs I endured!
And I begged for one glass--just one would have cured,--
But they kicked me out doors! I let that, too, pass,
For I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.
At home, my pet Susie, with her rich golden hair,
I saw through the window, just kneeling in prayer;
From her pale, bony hands, her torn sleeves hung down,
And her feet, cold and bare, shrank beneath her scant gown,
And she prayed--prayed for _bread_, just a poor crust of bread,
For one crust, on her knees my pet darling plead!
And I heard, with no penny to buy one, alas!
For I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.
For Susie, my darling, my wee six-year-old,
Though fainting with hunger and shivering with cold,
There, on the bare floor, asked God to bless _me_!
And she said, "Don't cry, mamma! He will; for you see,
I _believe_ what I ask for!" Then sobered, I crept
Away from the house; and that night, when I slept,
Next my heart lay the PLEDGE! You smile! let it pass,
For I've drank my last glass, boys
I have drank my last glass.
My darling child saved me! Her faith and her love
Are akin to my dear sainted mother's above!
I will make my words true, or I'll die in the race,
And sober I'll go to my last resting place;
And she shall kneel there, and, weeping, thank God
No _drunkard_ lies under the daisy-strewn sod!
Not a drop more of poison my lips shall e'er pass,
For I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.