En he say: "Dis heah des suits me, en I gwine ter eat my fill;
But I'll sic de dogs on Laz'rus, ef he waitin' roun' heah still."
En de dogs commence dey barkin', raise a racket high en low,
En when Laz'rus see 'em comin' he decide 'twuz time ter go.

So, he limp off on his crutches, en de rich man think it's fun,
But I reckon Laz'rus answer: "I'll git even wid you, son!"
De rich man so enjoy hisse'f he laugh hisse'f ter bed,
En, brotherin', when he wake up he wuz stiff, stone dead!

En den he raise a racket, en he holler out: "What dis?
De place is onfamiliar, en I wonder whar' I is?"
Den Satan, he mek answer: "I'm de man ter tell you dat:
You's in de fire department er de place I livin' at!"

Den de rich man say: "Whar' Laz'rus dat wuz beggin' at my gate?"
En Satan tell him: "Yander, wid a silver spoon en plate;
En he eatin' fit ter kill hisse'f! He spendin' er de day
Wid good ol' Mister Abra'm, but he mighty fur away!"

"Will you please, suh," say de rich man, "ax him bring a drink ter me,
Wid a li'l' ice ter cool it? Kaze I hot ez hot kin be!"
But Satan fall ter laughin', whilst he stir de fire roun':--
"De ice would melt, my brother, 'fo' it ever hit de groun'!"

Den he fill a cup wid brimstone--fill it steamin' ter de top;
But de rich man say he swear off, dat he never tech a drop!
But Satan grab his pitchfork whilst de rich man give a squall,
En in 'bout a half a second he had swallered cup en all!