Stirs the fountains of my heart.
You say that my home is happy;
To me ’tis earth’s fairest place,
But its sunshine, peace and gladness
Back to this stocking I trace.
I was once a wretched drunkard;
Ah! you start and say not so;
But the dreadful depths I’ve sounded,
And I speak of what I know.
I was wild and very reckless