I take my book, I take my stick
On the Sabbath day,
In woody nooks and valleys
I hide myself away.

To ponder there in quiet
God's Universal Plan,
Resolved that church and Sabbath
Were never made for man.



AFTER THE PLAY.

Father

Have you spent the money I gave you to-day?

John

Ay, father I have.
A fourpence on cakes, two pennies that away
To a beggar I gave.

Father

The lake of yellow brimstone boil for you in Hell,
Such lies that you spin.
Tell the truth now, John, ere the falsehood swell,
Say, where have you been?