Walks without halting gait--
changing styles;
swims across Dire Strait.

Why art thou staying still my breath,
Who suppose to have long perished?
Why dost thou count me amongst
The living, that ought to have vanished?

To life am I not entitled for many
A reason--am unworthy of being;
Yet with thy strong arm of grace
Hast thou been blessing me, O heaven.

On the altar of even and morn
My fairest love for thee I burn--
The incense of mine heart,
That the frankincense's flame
May consume you whole, dame.

Love not m'heart
at
a lower rate, stringing me along.

Took I the heavy sack of my sin
And dragged it into the sea
Of salvation--watched it drowning
To the bed of grace and mercy.

Better to remain single
than
be hooked with a devil.

A grave man needs a wife
With whom to share his life--
Wise, warm and straight spouse
To keep and tend his house,
Both making a merry home
Until the Lord's kingdom come.