From the Temperance Journal.
TEMPERATE DRINKING.
{"newspaper_name": "Liberty advocate.", "edition": "01", "page": "p2", "byline": ""}
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"Ts but DROP" the father said,


And gave it to his son;
But little did he think work
or death was then begun.
The "drop'' tina, Jared him, when the bab


Scarce lispsd his fathers name,
Planted fatal appetite,


Deep in his infant frame.
"'Ts bs. drops tho comrades cried,


Ia,trusnt-schoolboy tone;
" 1t did not hurt US in our robes,--


1t will 20, now we've grown"
and so they drank the mixture up,
| That reeling, youthful band;
Fer each had learned 10 Iowa the taste,
From his own fathers hand.
"'Tis but drsp," the husband said,
While his poor wife stood by,
In famine, grief, and loneliness,
And raised tn impIoriag cry,
"'Fis but drop-I'Il drink it still


Twill never injure nae:
always drank--so, madam, hush!


We never can agree"
She wept,n vain--in vain she plead


The hunger of her child,
And her own tattered dress-the wretch


Her mournful words reviled,
lie took the cup with fiendlike air,


And deep and long he drank;
Then dashed it down, and on the earth,
lnsensble he sank.
"Tis but drop-I need it now


The staggering drunkard said;
" 1t was my food in, infancy


My meat, and drink, and bread.
A drop-a drop-oh let me have,


II will SO refresh my SOUL"
He took Observation-Disclosures and died,
'Grasping the fatal bowl