I'd dearly love to tear my hair
And romp around a bit,
For I am mad enough to swear
Since Brother Chauncy quit.
I am so vilely prone to sin—
Vain ribald that I am—
I'd take a hideous pleasure in
Just one prodigious "damn."
But shall I yield to Satan's wiles
And let my passions swell?
Nay, I will wreath my face in smiles,
And mock the powers of hell.
And howsoever pride may roll
Its billows through my frame,
I'll not condemn my precious soul
Unto the quenchless flame!
But rather will I humbly pray
Divinity to wash
From out my mouth such words away
As "Jiminy" and "Gosh."