“I ricolleet that when I passed
The pearly gates and sills of gold
And see that blessed sight unfold
Before my dim old hazy eyes,
I got a shock of such surprise
I couldn’t move,—I couldn’t speak,
—Jest run my tongue down in my cheek
And sort of numbly pronged and pried
The chaw I took before I died.
—That’s been my habit all my days;