The Drunkard's Hell
It was on a cold and stormy night
I saw and heard an awful sight;
The lightning flashed and thunder rolled
Around my poor benighted soul.
I thought I heard a mournful sound
Among the groans still lower down,
That awful sight no tongue can tell
Is this,—the place called Drunkard's Hell.
I thought I saw the gulf below
Where all the dying drunkards go.
I raised my hand and sad to tell
It was the place called Drunkard's Hell.
I traveled on and got there at last
And started to take a social glass;
But every time I started,—well,
I thought about the Drunkard's Hell.
I dashed it down to leave that place
And started to seek redeeming grace.
I felt like Paul, at once I'd pray
Till all my sins were washed away.
I then went home to change my life
And see my long neglected wife.
I found her weeping o'er the bed
Because her infant babe was dead.
I told her not to mourn and weep
Because her babe had gone to sleep;
Its happy soul had fled away
To dwell with Christ till endless day.
I taken her by her pale white hand,
She was so weak she could not stand;
I laid her down and breathed a prayer
That God might bless and save her there.
I then went to the Temperance hall
And taken a pledge among them all.
They taken me in with a willing hand
And taken me in as a temperance man.
So seven long years have passed away
Since first I bowed my knees to pray;
So now I live a sober life
With a happy home and a loving wife.