"We see with shame and sorrow,
From virtue fain to borrow
The vices that abound
Increasingly are found;
They craftily ensnare
And with a pompous air----"
"Be quiet Erik!" said the dean; "you are only rambling."--"Oh well, that may be," said Erik--and began again:--
"If one will work upon you so
With ticing words that you shall go
In the broad, cursed way of sin,
Be strong, permit him not to win--"
"No, do give over Erik! The hymn is nice enough, but everything in its own time."--"Yes, yes, father, that is true,--everything in its own time:--
"Oh I every minute, every hour
Is Thine, it is Thy due,
Our hearts must beat to own Thy power,
And call to prayer anew--"
"No, no, Erik, or prayer itself would lead into temptation; you might become a Catholic, and go into the monastery--"--"God forbid!" said Erik, and opened his eyes wide, then shutting them, he began:
"As earth and dust to pure gold,