{"id":48,"date":"2021-06-16T14:32:31","date_gmt":"2021-06-16T18:32:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/?post_type=chapter&#038;p=48"},"modified":"2022-02-01T11:25:18","modified_gmt":"2022-02-01T16:25:18","slug":"nothing-and-something","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/chapter\/nothing-and-something\/","title":{"raw":"Nothing and Something","rendered":"Nothing and Something"},"content":{"raw":"It is nothing to me, the beauty said,\r\nWith a careless toss of her pretty head;\r\nThe man is weak if he can't refrain\r\nFrom the cup you say is fraught with pain.\r\nIt was something to her in after years;\r\nWhen her eyes were drenched with burning tears,\r\nAnd she watched in lonely grief and dread,\r\nAnd startled to hear a staggering tread.\r\n\r\nIt is nothing to me, the mother said;\r\nI have no fear that my boy will tread\r\nIn the downward path of sin and shame,\r\nAnd crush my heart and darken his name.\r\nIt was something to her when that only son\r\nFrom the path of right was early won,\r\nAnd madly cast in the flowing bowl\r\nA ruined body and sin-wrecked soul.\r\n\r\nIt is nothing to me, the young man cried:\r\nIn his eye was a flash of scorn and pride;\r\nI heed not the dreadful things ye tell:\r\nI can rule myself I know full well.\r\nIt was something to him when in prison he lay\r\nThe victim of drink, life ebbing away;\r\nAnd thought of his wretched child and wife,\r\nAnd the mournful wreck of his wasted life.\r\n\r\nIt is nothing to me, the merchant said,\r\nAs over his ledger he bent his head;\r\nI'm busy to-day with tare and tret,\r\nAnd I have no time to fume and fret.\r\nIt was something to him when over the wire\r\nA message came from a funeral pyre\u2014\r\nA drunken conductor had wrecked a train,\r\nAnd his wife and child were among the slain.\r\n\r\nIt is nothing to me, the voter said,\r\nThe party's loss is my greatest dread;\r\nThen gave his vote for the liquor trade,\r\nThough hearts were crushed and drunkards made.\r\nIt was something to him in after life,\r\nWhen his daughter became a drunkard's wife\r\nAnd her hungry children cried for bread,\r\nAnd trembled to hear their father's tread.\r\n\r\nIs it nothing for us to idly sleep\r\nWhile the cohorts of death their vigils keep?\r\nTo gather the young and thoughtless in\r\nAnd grind in our midst a grist of sin?\r\n\r\nIt is something, yes, all, for us to stand\r\nClasping by faith our Saviour's hand;\r\nTo learn to labor, live and fight\r\nOn the side of God and changeless light.","rendered":"<p>It is nothing to me, the beauty said,<br \/>\nWith a careless toss of her pretty head;<br \/>\nThe man is weak if he can&#8217;t refrain<br \/>\nFrom the cup you say is fraught with pain.<br \/>\nIt was something to her in after years;<br \/>\nWhen her eyes were drenched with burning tears,<br \/>\nAnd she watched in lonely grief and dread,<br \/>\nAnd startled to hear a staggering tread.<\/p>\n<p>It is nothing to me, the mother said;<br \/>\nI have no fear that my boy will tread<br \/>\nIn the downward path of sin and shame,<br \/>\nAnd crush my heart and darken his name.<br \/>\nIt was something to her when that only son<br \/>\nFrom the path of right was early won,<br \/>\nAnd madly cast in the flowing bowl<br \/>\nA ruined body and sin-wrecked soul.<\/p>\n<p>It is nothing to me, the young man cried:<br \/>\nIn his eye was a flash of scorn and pride;<br \/>\nI heed not the dreadful things ye tell:<br \/>\nI can rule myself I know full well.<br \/>\nIt was something to him when in prison he lay<br \/>\nThe victim of drink, life ebbing away;<br \/>\nAnd thought of his wretched child and wife,<br \/>\nAnd the mournful wreck of his wasted life.<\/p>\n<p>It is nothing to me, the merchant said,<br \/>\nAs over his ledger he bent his head;<br \/>\nI&#8217;m busy to-day with tare and tret,<br \/>\nAnd I have no time to fume and fret.<br \/>\nIt was something to him when over the wire<br \/>\nA message came from a funeral pyre\u2014<br \/>\nA drunken conductor had wrecked a train,<br \/>\nAnd his wife and child were among the slain.<\/p>\n<p>It is nothing to me, the voter said,<br \/>\nThe party&#8217;s loss is my greatest dread;<br \/>\nThen gave his vote for the liquor trade,<br \/>\nThough hearts were crushed and drunkards made.<br \/>\nIt was something to him in after life,<br \/>\nWhen his daughter became a drunkard&#8217;s wife<br \/>\nAnd her hungry children cried for bread,<br \/>\nAnd trembled to hear their father&#8217;s tread.<\/p>\n<p>Is it nothing for us to idly sleep<br \/>\nWhile the cohorts of death their vigils keep?<br \/>\nTo gather the young and thoughtless in<br \/>\nAnd grind in our midst a grist of sin?<\/p>\n<p>It is something, yes, all, for us to stand<br \/>\nClasping by faith our Saviour&#8217;s hand;<br \/>\nTo learn to labor, live and fight<br \/>\nOn the side of God and changeless light.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":299,"menu_order":13,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-48","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/48","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/299"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/48\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":75,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/48\/revisions\/75"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/48\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=48"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=48"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=48"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/sketchesofsouthernlife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=48"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}