My dying words; indeed I do believe.
The books are lying books, I know it well;
There is a devil, oh! there is a hell;
And I’m a sinner: spare me, I am young,
My sinful words were only on my tongue;
My heart consented not; ’tis all a lie:
Oh! spare me then, I’m not prepared to die.”
“Vain, worthless, stupid wretch!” the Father cried;
“Dost thou presume to teach? art thou a guide?
Driveller and dog, it gives the mind distress