A word from it, fire-like, we scathing can feel.
Strike not, then, so rashly, fire’s sparks from thy tongue,
In message or talk, feeble hearers among.
The night is pitch dark; strewn around, cotton beds.
Amongst beds of cotton, ’tis, sparks one most dreads.
He sins who, unmindful of dire consequence,
Lets fall spoken spark,—fires a whole world, immense.50
One rash word may set an assembly ablaze.
Molehills into mountains, and higher, it can raise.
In basis, our souls would appear Jesus-like.