Awd Satan seea pollutes the maund,
They winnut stooap te t’ means desaun’d.
Till t’ hair spring gits wi’t mainspring twain’d,
An seea hard curl’d,
They’re foorc’d away te git refined
I’ t’other warld.
He leeads sum on like mountebanks,
As straight as thof they ran on planks,
An’ tells ’em, i’ ther jovial pranks,
He’ll nut deceeave ’em;—
Then oft on Jordan’s stormy banks,
Ther cumforts leeave ’em.
He leeads sum on another way,
An’ whispers tiv ’em neeght an’ day,
’At they need nowther reead nor pray,
They’ve deean nowght wrang;
An’ if they hev, he’ll set it reeght,
Afoore ’t be lang,
Ther’s others oft beean in alarm,
Bud Felix like, when t’heart wur warm,
Hez sed, “Go, an’ sum other taame,
Ah’ll send for thee;”
When they that taame, they didden’t knaw
Mud ivver see.
They rob thersels o’ ther awn reeght,
They reeally winnut cum te t’ leeght,
Lest o’ ther sins they git a seeght,
An’ sud be seeav’d;
An’ be ov all ther plissures sweet,
At yance bereeav’d.
Till deep sunk doon i’ t’ burning leeake
They then begin te feear an’ queeake,
Where vengeance can neea pity teeake,
Which theer hez sent ’em,
An’ furious feeinds i’ horrid sheeape,
Mun theer torment ’em.
They leeak for sum yan te deliver,
Bud theer they’ll finnd neea cumfort nivver,
Theer they may weeap an’ wail for ivver,
Ther harvest’s past;
Ther summer’s ended, refuge fails ’em,
An’ they’re lost.
Ther dreeadful doom an’ destiny,
Let us git all we can te flee,
By preeachin Christ where’er we be,
I’ deead an’ word,
Till all oor frinds ther folly see,
An’ ton te God.
“Ah beean i’ t’ way noo seeaven yeear,”
An’ as he spak, a briny teear
Ran doon his cheeks as crystal cleear,
Fra’ owther ee;
“Thenk God, Ah feeal whahl Ah sit heer,
’Tis weel wi’ me.
Bud neeght is cummin on ameean,
An’t leeaks as if ’twur boon te reean,
Or else mah stoory’s nut hawf deean,
’At Ah’v te tell;
Bud mebby we may meeat ageean,
Till then, farewell!”