Though it's the gates of hell to Jim.
'I've had my heart burnt out like coal,
And drops of blood wrung from soul
Day in, day out, in pain and tears,
For five and twenty wretched years;
And he, he's ate the fat and sweet,
And loafed and spat at top of street,
And drunk and leched from day till morrow,
And never known a moment's sorrow.
He come out drunk from th'inn to look