Promised eternal love and truth,
But who, forsworn, hath yielded up
This promise to the deadly cup,
And led her down from love and light,
From all that made her pathway bright,
And chained her there ’mid want and strife,
That lowly thing,—a drunkard’s wife!
And stamped on childhood’s brow, so mild,
That withering blight,—a drunkard’s child!
Go, hear, and see, and feel, and know