Then the Angel cried, Satan, avaunt!
Then the Angel cried, Satan, avaunt!
I cannot sit to see them perish before mine eyes,
And, for the love of heaven, do not my pleading despise!
What is your trade, my good man?
the Scots are crying for mercy.
Oh, help me, God, to give it up!
There the lovers can enjoy themselves in its shady bowers
By telling tales of love to wile away the tedious hours.
Recite, and sing, his Songs to night.
And that heaven may you bless.
And with his finger pointing he cried.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories