The drunkard's home shall soon be sweet <br />If he will but abstain; <br />With needful comforts, all replete, <br />To soothe each minor pain. <br />The cheering wife and smiling child, <br />With cheeks of rosy hue, <br />And blue eyes beaming, fair and mild, <br />Shall youthful joys renew. <br /> <br /> <br />Oh, drunkard, poor deluded man, <br />Beguiled from virtue's way; <br />Thy callous heart, thy visage wan, <br />Thy hapless state betray. <br />Oh, come e're it shall be too late <br />To spring from sorrow's hold; <br />For thee the dearest blessings wait, <br />In water clear and cold, <br /> <br /> <br />Come, come, poor drunkard, come away <br />From gnawing wo and sin; <br />There is no time for thee to stay, <br />Haste, come poor drunkard, in. <br />The drunkard's home shall soon be sweet, <br />When he himself is freed; <br />With zeal and love his heart shall beat- <br />He'll say, 'I'm blest indeed.'<br /><br />John Pierpont<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-drunkard-s-home-made-sweet/
