Why, he’d take us off a-touring, in all spiritual weather,
Till we at last got home-sick and sea-sick all together!
And “I wish to all that’s peaceful,” said one free-expressioned brother,
“That the Lord had made one cont’nent, an’ then never made another!”
Sometimes, indeed, he’d take us into old, familiar places,
And pull along quite nat’ral, in the good old Gospel traces:
But soon my wife would shudder, just as if a chill had got her,
Whispering, “Oh, my goodness gracious! he’s a-takin’ to the water!”
And it wasn’t the same old comfort, when he called around to see us;