I had but one left; and him I taught To shun each sinful word and thought; To beware of the wine-cup's demon lure, That would steel his heart, and his soul obscure. He took the way of life that leads To the sacred desk where the preacher pleads, And placed his foot on the pulpit stair, The gospel--banner of life--to bear. When the cannon's boom o'er Sumter broke, And the air was filled with traitorous smoke; When brave men sprang with willing hearts To their Country's flag to repel the darts Which treason had hurled with malice wild At the life of the mother, so good and mild,-- My boy stepped down from the preacher's stand, And started forth, with life in hand, To sell it dear, but to battle strong With the loyal North against fearful wrong. I know that he carries a magic spell 'Gainst the curse of our race to guard him well; And I know, should he fall, his death will be In the foremost ranks of loyalty. And now, young men, an old man's prayer:-- Leave the bright wine in your glasses there; Shun its allurements; for in its deep red Is the blood of its victims dying and dead. Fill up your glasses, and pledge your friend In the crystal stream that Heaven doth send." [Illustration] With a lowly bow, and the same meek air, He has passed the door, and adown the stair; While those he has left to their leader turn With downcast eyes, and cheeks that burn. Silent he stands as his glass he takes, When the guest of the evening the silence breaks. "Friends of my boyhood, the old man's prayer Shall meet a response in the heart I wear. I come to-night from a mother's side: She watches my life with a parent's pride; And I know 'tis the dearest wish of her heart, In camp and in battle to keep me apart From sin and temptation; unceasing will pray Heaven's blessing to guard on my perilous way. And this pledge will I leave her,--never again My lips with the wine-cup's poison to stain. So, friends, let's drink to our meeting again: My drink is the water, free from all stain." [Illustration] He stood with his upraised glass, and the light Full on his fair young brow beamed bright,-- That brow which an anxious mother would kiss With a pure, deep feeling of heartfelt bliss; And along the line of his comrades young, To honor his toast, each hand upsprung: In not one glass did the red wine gleam; But all were filled from the crystal stream. [Illustration]