A Poem for God's own Glory
In light o' death, I'd rather stand at Judgment drunk on brandy,
Than drunk my fill o' hevy hearts o' throngs o' neighbors God gave me
My stomach would be better full o' rich and divers treats,
Than to be gorged on man's worst days, and preyed on victims' feats
What good, I says, an empty gut, or head that's full o' psalms,
If God can see my heart is black, my gossip hand, with bloodied palms
Reviler I be, if think that I be free from Mighty's ire,
Good God, I cry, I know that I be then in Christ's own pyre
My warning, thou, I give this day, that thou dread not God's wrath,
If only, thou, upon this day, mercy for men thou hast
Christ mercy give, His mercy spread, and thou better give it many,
So on the fateful Judgment day, thou need pay not a penny.
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