Hugging the devil, refraining from the Lord:
Filling my hollow and empty life, the gourd
Of my soul, up with the mirth of lechery;
Making frenzied fortune from debauchery,
While the account of my heart is credited
With slush happiness: full, yet never sated.
Lured by diverse lusts; rain do not up fill
A basket. Man is vapid outside God's will.

Though like the kings and queens was she
Born who in lordly bricks palatially dwell,
And like the presidents that rule by majority
Votes the Republic, and like the verily well-
Pruned governors and mayors of states and cities
That live by the plough of the citizenry,
And like those folks of noble duties
Who delicately deck and behave benighly;
Yet this live in inclement circumstances, a
Woman nuts and partly ****. The round-
About her abode hath been and there the sheila--
Come rain, come shine--is lugubriously found.

Though we weep for our own
Departed dears, whose souls had flown
To yonder shores, that had left us
Behind in utter sorrow for quietus.

Yet, they on the other hand in heaven,
When beholding us earthly men
From their abode of bliss, would wish
That we could join them with a swish.

One thing that makes me truckle
At times, for which i can't chuckle,
Is that at death all what we ably
Know or seem to know will verily
To nought come. Our good counsel again
Shall not be sought for in any bargain,
Neither will people request more for
Our input in this or that endeavour;--

Though some do believe in clairvoyance,
Getting the direction of life thru sèance;
Yet for the Christian such is no option
To be considered in any dark situation;
Saul the king though went to consult
With Samuel in Endor, but a result
Bad he had; for what God hath purposed
Cannot be by a band of devils crossed!--

Save a head ere his demise a book
Had written or cast like a fish hook
His imaginations in the river of a canvass
Or recorded an album or taught a class;
Else all his lulu endowments shall no
Profit be, when he at last lies below
The surface of the earth. To die a manqué,
For the world and him, is a tragedy.

Yea, thou needest nay at a loss to be.
That's the way of milk-and-honey people,
Whose flirting feet are set to flee
The instant one's riches out fizzled.

For many a friend ***** and even family
Will forsake, leaving thee alone to deal
With and wax fat in the deep bowl of poverty,
At the turn of rotary fortune's wheel.