'Tis but a drop' the father said, br And gave it to his son; br But little did he think a work br Of death was then begun. br The 'drop' that lured him when the babe br Scarce lisped his father's name, br Planted a fatal appetite br Deep in his infant frame. br br br ''T is but a drop,' the comrades cried, br In truant school-boy tone; br 'It did not hurt us in our robes, br It will not now we're grown.' br And so they drank the mixture up- br That reeling, youthful band; br For each had learned to love the taste br From his own father's hand. br br br ''T is but a drop,' the husband said, br While his poor wife stood by, br In famine, grief, and loneliness, br And raised th' imploring cry. br ''T is but a drop-I'll drink it still- br 'T will never injure me: br I always drink-so, madam, hush! br We never can agree.' br br br She wept, she pleaded, but in vain, br The hunger of her child, br And her own tatter'd dress-the wretch br Her mournful words revil'd. br He took the cup with fiend-like air, br And deep and long he drank; br Then dash'd it down, and on the earth br Insensible he sank. br br br ''T is but a drop-I need it now,' br The staggering drunkard said; br 'It was my food in infancy- br My meat, and drink, and bread. br A drop-a drop-oh, let me have, br 'T will so refresh my soul!' br He took it-trembled-drank and died, br Grasping the fatal bowl.