(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