My soul, my soul, awake! awake! They come! they come!
The devil's come to take—Old Satan, I am thine!
Away my soul will ever roll through torturing, scorching Hell,
And down into the blackest depths my soul is cast pell-mell.
Oh, what a fate for man to meet—speak, Satan! speak, I say!
And with your torturing, devilish deeds—my ruin! no delay!
What dumb! Old Satan, canst thou speak? Look here
And speak thy want! I'm now right crisp and hard in sin and haven't any fear.
Take me, demons! Take me, quick! I hear the awful knell
Of the roaring, moaning billows, and the bitterness of Hell.