The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme The witch of Shiloh, the last of the Wampanoags, the gentle earl, the enchanted voyage |
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| 34. | XXXIV |
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 | The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme |  |
XXXIV
“Besides, I find a hopeful smatter
Of palliation in the matter.
Your past has kinder been your master
In sin as well as in disaster.
It grabbed you at the first beginnin',
Before you squarely thought of sinnin',
An' when it fairly got you under,
It dragged you down to blood an' plunder,
An' through a sort of necromancy,
That wasn't strictly to your fancy,
It made you grind a grist of evil,
For which I mainly blame the deevle.
Of palliation in the matter.
Your past has kinder been your master
In sin as well as in disaster.
It grabbed you at the first beginnin',
Before you squarely thought of sinnin',
An' when it fairly got you under,
It dragged you down to blood an' plunder,
An' through a sort of necromancy,
That wasn't strictly to your fancy,
It made you grind a grist of evil,
For which I mainly blame the deevle.
In short, you've been predestinated
To walk the very road you hated;
An' therefore I should say for sartin
The surest way to do your cartin
An' find the marciful pertection
Would be the doctrine of election.
Election is Apollyon's horror;
It brimstones hell like old Gomorror,
An' raises scalds on Gog an' Magog
As broad acrost as Lake Umbagog,
An' scorches every imp to cinder
Who tries to chuck it out o' winder.
To walk the very road you hated;
An' therefore I should say for sartin
The surest way to do your cartin
An' find the marciful pertection
Would be the doctrine of election.
Election is Apollyon's horror;
It brimstones hell like old Gomorror,
An' raises scalds on Gog an' Magog
As broad acrost as Lake Umbagog,
An' scorches every imp to cinder
Who tries to chuck it out o' winder.
195
That doggamy is your reliance;
Astride of that you'll bid defiance
To terrors, doubts an' suchlike temptins';
An' when creation runs to emptins'
When all the tribes of men an' sperrits
Are jedged accordin' to their merits,
You'll see yourselves as high as any,
If Downing's word is worth a penny.
Astride of that you'll bid defiance
To terrors, doubts an' suchlike temptins';
An' when creation runs to emptins'
When all the tribes of men an' sperrits
Are jedged accordin' to their merits,
You'll see yourselves as high as any,
If Downing's word is worth a penny.
| The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | |