All Time GOD'S Law hath spoken,
Miserable sinners!
That Law may not be broken,
Miserable sinners!
But he that breaks it must endure
The penalty which works the cure.
To us, for GOD'S great laws transgressed,
Is doomsman Pestilence addressed,
Miserable sinners!
We can not juggle Heaven,
Miserable sinners!
With one day out of seven,
Miserable sinners!
Shall any force of fasts atone
For years of duty left undone?
How expiate with prayer or psalm,
Deaf ear, blind eye, and folded palm?
Miserable sinners!
Let us be up and stirring,
Miserable sinners!
'Mong ignorant and erring,
Miserable sinners!
Sloth and self-seeking from us cast,
Believing this the fittest fast,
For of all prayers prayed 'neath the sun
There is no prayer like work well done,
Miserable sinners!
PAPA TO HIS HEIR, A FAST MINOR. PUNCH.
My son, a father's warning heed;
I think my end is nigh:
And then, you dog, you will succeed
Unto my property.
But, seeing you are not, just yet.
Arrived at man's estate,
Before you full possession get,
You'll have a while to wait.
A large allowance I allot
You during that delay;
And I don't recommend you not
To throw it all away.
To such advice you'd ne'er attend;
You won't let prudence rule
Your courses; but, I know, will spend
Your money like a fool.
I do not ask you to eschew
The paths of vice and sin;
You'll do as all young boobies, who
Are left, as you say, tin.
You'll sot, you'll bet; and, being green,
At all that's right you'll joke;
Your life will be a constant scene
Of billiards and of smoke.