Джон Пирпонт (John Pierpont)

* * *

Awake! awake! and take the pledge,
Without a fear or doubt!
'T will weave around your heart a hedge,
To keep the demon out;
'T will wake a thrill of heavenly joy
In her who weeps at home;
And laughing girl and prattling boy
Will smile to see you come.

O, take the pledge and break the cup
That poisons all the land!
'T will sweetly come and raise you up,
Where Honor waves her hand;
'T will wipe contempt and scorn away,
Which all that knew ye bore,
Till ye become beloved as they,
And ye are brutes no more.

O, take the pledge, poor, trembling sot!
Dash down the poisonous wave!
Ye see the dreadful path you've got
To travel to the grave.
Come joyful up: there's hope, there's bliss,
And blessings yet in store,
Even in a checkered world like this,
If you will drink no more.

O, take the pledge, all ye that think
Of moderate cups to-day!
For ye may win the sot from drink
If ye but lead the way.
'T will be a sweet and thrilling thought,
As on through life you go,
That one poor wretch was timely caught,
And snatched from shame and wo.

O, take the pledge, all ye that sell
This poison of the soul!
What good ye'll do, no tongue can tell,
By dashing down the bowl.
The drunkard's wife, with tears of joy,
Will bless you morn and even;
And lovely girl and happy boy
Will lisp your name to Heaven.

O, take the pledge, both old and young—
The resolution seal!
It would require an angel's tongue
To tell the joy ye 'll feel.
Your heart will then the deed approve,
Though grovelling sense should frown;
And God himself will bend in love,
And send a blessing down.

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