A long, tall angel;
I’se gwine be a angel, bye ’n bye!
A w’ite-robed angel,
A charcoal angel;
I’se gwine be a angel, bye ’n bye!
THE MISANTHROPE
He supped on sorrow till his soul
Was sated with the noxious fare;
But not one drop of Love’s pure wine
Could his repleted spirit bear.