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Health and Temperance

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International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Feb 18, 1889

FromThe Signs of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 7

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Health and Temperance

“IT'S NOTHING TO ME.”

“It's nothing to me,” the mother said, “I have no fears that my boy will tread The downward path of sin and shame, And crush my heart and darken his name.”
It was something to her when her only son From the path of right was early won, And madly cast in the flowing bowl A ruined body and shipwrecked soul.
“It's nothing to me,” the young man cried; In his eyes was a flash of scorn and pride— “I heed not the dreadful things you tell; I can rule myself, I know, full well.”
'Twas something to him, when in prison he lay The victim of drink—life ebbing away— As he thought of the wretched child and wife, And the mournful wreck of his wasted life.
“It's nothing to me,” the voter said, “The party's loss is my greatest dread.” Then he gave his vote for the liquor trade, Though hearts were crushed and drunkards made.
It was something to him in after life, When his daughter became a drunkard's wife, And her hungry children cried for bread, And trembled to hear their father's tread.
—Selected.