The Cup For Me

The drink that's in the drunkard's bowl Is not the drink for me, It kills his body and his soul, How sad a sight is he! But there's a drink that God has given, Distilling in the showers of heaven, In measures large and free; Oh, that's the drink for me. (Repeat 3 ts.) The stream that many prize so high, Is not the stream for me; For he who drinks it still is dry, Forever dry he'll be. But there's a stream so cool and clear, The thirsty traveller lingers near, Refreshed and glad is he; Oh, that's the stream for me. The winecup that so many prize Is not the cup for me; The aching head, the bloated face, In its sad train I see, But there's a cup of water pure, And he who drinks it may be sure Of strength, when old is he;-- Oh, that's the cup for me.