(d b b b a g g, e g f# e d, c b a g)
 
      F             Bb
 You ask me why so oft, father,
       F        G7/D      C7
 The tear rolls down my cheek,
 And think it strange that I should own
 A grief I dare not speak;
 
     C              G
 But O, my soul is very sad,
      7              C  (7)
 My brain is almost wild;
 It breaks my heart, to think that I
 Am call'd a drunkard's child.
 

Drunkard's Child
Words and Music composed by Mrs. Parkhurst.

You ask me why so oft, father,
The tear rolls down my cheek,
And think it strange that I should own
A grief I dare not speak;

But O, my soul is very sad,
My brain is almost wild;
It breaks my heart, to think that I
Am call'd a drunkard's child.

CHORUS
But O, my soul is very sad,
My brain is almost wild;
It breaks my heart, To think that I
Am call'd a drunkard's child.

My playmates shun me now, father,
Or pass me by with scorn,
Because my dress is ragged, and
My shoes are old and torn;
And if I heed them not, there goes
The drunkard's girl, they cry;
Oh then, how much I wish that God
Would only let me die.

You used to love me once, father,
And we had bread to eat;
Mamma and I were warmly clad,
And life seem'd very sweet
You never spoke unkindly then,
Or dealt the angry blow;
Oh father dear, 'tis sad to think
That rum hath chang'd you so.

Do not be angry now, father,
Because I tell you this,
But let me feel upon my brow,
Once more thy loving kiss;
And promise me, those lips no more,
With drink shall be defil'd.
That, from a life of want and woe,
Thou'lt save thy weeping child.

[Parkhurst, Mrs. E. A. [1870], The Drunkard's Child (Publisher unknown).]
http://dig.lib.niu.edu/gildedage/songs/drunkardschild1.html