THE MOTHER'S WARNING

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 17, 1900

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 26, No. 42.

THE MOTHER'S WARNING.

TOUCH it not—ye do not know, Unless you've borne a fate like mine, How deep a curse, how wild a woe, Is lurking in that ruby wine.

Look on my cheek—'tis withered now; It once was round and smooth as thine; Look on my deeply-furrowed brow— 'Tis all the work of treacherous wine.

I had two sons, two princely boys, As noble men as God e'er gave; I saw them fall from honor's joys To fill a common drunkard's grave.

I had a daughter, young and fair, As pure as ever woman bore— Where is she? Did you ask me where? Bend low, I'll tell the tale once more.

I saw that fairy child of mine Linked to a kingly bridegroom's side; Her heart was proud and light as thine— O, would to God she then had died!

Not many moons had filled their horn, While she upon his bosom slept; 'Twas on a dark November morn, She o'er a murdered husband wept.

Her drunken father dealt the blow— Her brain grew wild, her heart grew weak; Was ever tale of deeper woe A mother's lips had lived to speak?

She dwells in yonder darkened halls; No ray of reason there doth shine; She on her murdered husband calls— 'Twas done by wine, accursed wine. —Selected.