I saw a Christian, a temperance man,
   Casting his ballot one day at the polls:
One who believes he does what he can
   Toward the reclaiming and saving of souls.
      And may be he does--may be he does!
      I don't say he doesn't, but may be he does!

I saw his candidate sipping his beer,
   Wiping his moustache and lapping his jaws;
And I said to myself, "It's decidedly queer,
   If this is the man that should help make our laws."
      But may be he is--may be he is!
      I won't say it outright, but may be he is!

I saw an old drunkard fall in the street:
   I saw my Christian man mournfully pass,
And mournfully say to the sot at his feet:
   "I have done what I could for such wrecks, but, alas!"
      Well, may be he had--may be he had!
      I don't say he hadn't, but may be he had!

I know a party that's forming to-day,
   Made out of men that are loyal and brave:
They will sweep liquor taxes and tariffs away,
   For they never will vote for a drinking old knave.
     You see if they do! you see if they do!
      I don't say I know, but you see if they do!

Drops of Water: Poems by Ella Wheeler
New York : The National Temperance Society and Publication House, 1872.

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