“And who’s for Jesus now?” he’d call,
“And who’s for Love that’s strong?
Repent, believe: there’s Heaven for all
That turns and flees from wrong....”
I wish no harm to my poor Jim,
But God strike Lizzie dead!
’Twas cruel of her to lead the hymn,
With me laid ill, in bed.
They’re gone—last month—to Leytonstone;
Jim has a pulpit there;