Hearken, Lady Betty, hearken,
To the dismal news I tell;
How your friends are all embarking
For the fiery gulph of hell.

Brother Simkin's grown a rakehell,
Cards and dances ev'ry day,
Jenny laughs at tabernacle,
Tabby Runt is gone astray.

Blessed I, tho' once rejected,
Like a little wand'ring sheep,
Who this morning was elected
By a vision in my sleep:

For I dream'd an apparition
Came, like Roger, from above;
Saying, by divine commission
I must fill you full of love.

Just with Roger's head of hair on,
Roger's mouth, and pious smile;
Sweet, methinks, as beard of Aaron
Dropping down with holy oil.

I began to fall a kicking,
Panted, struggled, strove in vain;
When the spirit whipt so quick in,
I was cur'd of all my pain.

First I thought it was the night--mare
Lay so heavy on my breast;
But I found new joy and light there,
When with heavenly love possest.

Come again, then, apparition,
Finish what thou hast begun;
Roger, stay, thou soul's physician,
I with thee my race will run.

Faith her chariot has appointed,
Now we're stretching for the goal;
All the wheels with grace anointed,
Up to heav'n to drive my soul.--