Heaven Bell A-Ring

My Lord, my Lord, what shall I do?

And a heav'n bell a-ring and praise God.

Timmy, Timmy, orphan boy Robert, Robert, orphan child.

What shall I do for a hiding place? And a heav'n, &c.

I run to de sea, but de sea run dry.

I run to de gate, but de gate shut fast.

No hiding place for sinner dere.

Say you when you get to heaven say you 'member me.

Remember me, poor fallen soul.

Say when you get to heaven say your work shall prove.

Your righteous Lord shall prove 'em well.

Your righteous Lord shall find you out.

He cast out none dat come by faith.

You look to de Lord wid a tender heart.

I wonder where poor Monday dere.

For I am gone and sent to hell.

We must harkee what de worldy say.

Say Christmas come but once a year.

Say Sunday come but once a week.

Rate this poem: 

Reviews