Nor bring me back departed joys;
But ye can try to save the boys.
Ye bid me break my fiery chain,
Arise and be a man again,
When every street with snares is spread,
And nets of sin where’er I tread.
No; I must reap as I did sow.
The seeds of sin bring crops of woe;
But with my latest breath I’ll crave
That ye will try the boys to save.