Temperance

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jun 28, 1883

THE OLD RUM-SELLER

'Twas nigh to a bar that had long been made, Leaned a rum-seller old in the liquor trade; His work was done and he paused to count The receipts of the day, a large amount; A relic of jolly old topers was he, And his hair was white as the foam of the sea, And these words came forth with the fumes of gin, I gather them in, I gather them in.

I gather them in both old and young, To my den of death they go and come; Some to the scaffold, some to the grave, Some to the prison, but none I save. Come father, mother, daughter and son, All I will ruin, one by one, With my rum or whisky, brandy or gin, I gather them in, I gather them in.

I gather them in to a life of shame, I blast the fairest honored name; Make widows and orphans to cry and moan At the foot of old King Alcohol's throne. The highest or lowest, I care not which, Will soon find their level in a common ditch. The law protects me and it is no sin, I gather them in, I gather them in.

The old man ceased as he closed his till, Soon all was dark and gloomy and still; And I said to myself as he went to his rest, Can it be that humanity dwells in your breast? Man may forgive you but God never will, Though your ill-gotten gains foot the minister's bill. And his voice will be heard o'er the last trumpet's din, Hell gathers you in, hell gathers you in. --Catholic Temperance Advocate.