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Deep ridicule, and he for once complied;
But usually he such requests denied,
Avowing, if he hoped to win the prize,
Not only must he pray, but "vocalize."
And so whene'er it came to singing psalms,
That house was filled with miserable qualms;
Until at last the suffering congregation
Had him indicted for the desecration.

A witness being called, with lungs inflated
The manner of his singing imitated,
Producing inextinguishable laughter
That shook the court-house to the highest rafter,
Convulsing judge, spectators, bar and jury,
Till some lay down and rolled in comic fury.
This testimony wrought a quick conviction;
But on appeal it met with interdiction,
For there was no pretence that he intended
The worship to disturb; he thought he blended
Most scientifically with the rest,—
In short, he always did his "level best."
"And so if he will sing, there's no help for 't;
His church may discipline him, not the court."
The prosecuting brethren went out sad
At this intelligence: it was too bad;
Not only must they hear him on the earth,
But as he was a man of Christian worth,
Sure of salvation with the godly leaven,
They must to all eternity in heaven
List to that voice, which all the saints would drown,
Of smiling Linkhaw, with his harp and crown!
But for the earthly part of this dire pest,
I might one simple remedy suggest:
Induce good Brother Linkhaw to embrace
The ministry, and then at least his face
He must to some fresh field once in three years
Reluctant turn, and spare the tortured ears.
Devoutly to be wished-for dispensation,—
The Methodist contrivance of "rotation"!