r I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.

Ah! I reeled home last night, it was not very late,
For I'd spent my last sixpence, and landlords won't wait
On a fellow who's left every cent in their till,
And has pawned his last bed, their coffers to fill.
Oh, the torments I felt, and the pangs I endured!
And I begged for one glass--just one would have cured,--
But they kicked me out doors! I let that, too, pass,
For I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.

At home, my pet Susie, with her rich golden hair,
I saw through the window, just kneeling in prayer;
From her pale, bony hands, her torn sleeves hung down,
And her feet, cold and bare, shrank beneath her scant gown,
And she prayed--prayed for _bread_, just a poor crust of bread,
For one crust, on her knees my pet darling plead!
And I heard, with no penny to buy one, alas!
For I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.

For Susie, my darling, my wee six-year-old,
Though fainting with hunger and shivering with cold,
There, on the bare floor, asked God to bless _me_!
And she said, "Don't cry, mamma! He will; for you see,
I _believe_ what I ask for!" Then sobered, I crept
Away from the house; and that night, when I slept,
Next my heart lay the PLEDGE! You smile! let it pass,
For I've drank my last glass, boys
I have drank my last glass.

My darling child saved me! Her faith and her love
Are akin to my dear sainted mother's above!
I will make my words true, or I'll die in the race,
And sober I'll go to my last resting place;
And she shall kneel there, and, weeping, thank God
No _drunkard_ lies under the daisy-strewn sod!
Not a drop more of poison my lips shall e'er pass,
For I've drank my last glass, boys,
I have drank my last glass.

Highland Mary

Ye banks, and braes, and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery,
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie!
There simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry;
For there I took the last fareweel
O' my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk,
How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
As, underneath their fragrant shade,
I clasp'd her to my bosom!
The golden hours, on angel wings,
Flew o'er me and my dearie;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary!

Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu' tender;
And, pledging aft t