That, through thar pra’r and thar false prerfession, They have been cleans’d of all thar sin, Will find, when they apply for admission, They have a slim chance ter get in!
My Rerligion is not a prerfession That “I am holier than thou!” That a man can not serve his Creator If he don’t make a saintly bow!
The follerers of the Blessed Jesus, Who war cradl’d in a menger, Will strive ter love thar neighbor as themselves, And gladden the lonely strenger—
With kindnesses what go home ter the heart In hour of his greatest need, And act the part of the Sermaritan, Of whom we all derlight ter read.
I may be a sinner, and I doubt not Have done heaps of things that war wrong; But I love the example of the Lord, And in secret pour out in song—
My acknolergements for His great bounty; And I strive ter keep His commands, What war written on tablets by Moses, When Jerhover guided his hands!
In them, Commandments ye get the essence Of the Truth as given ter man; And if a poor sinner lives up ter ’em, And labors the best that he can— No matter if he is out of the church, Whar the wicked ones are cryin’ For mercy! He’ll not be with the Deacon Blubb’rin’ at the gates of Zion!
