3
He bore my image on his brow,
My service he did still avow;
He had no other deity;
But this world, the flesh, and me;
Unto us he did homage pay,
And did us worship every day.
The thing that he delighted in,
Was that which pious folks call sin;
Adultery, whoredom, and such vice,
Such pleasures were his paradise.
To curse, to swear, and to blaspheme,
He gloried in, and thought no shame.
To excess he drank beer and wine,
Till he was drunken like a swine.
No sabbath day regarded he,
But spent it in profanity.
'Mongst other vices, as some say,
He ravish'd virgins on that day.
But that which rais'd his fame so hie,
Was the good service done to me,
In bearing of a deadly feud
'Gainst people who did pray and read ;
And sought my kingdom to impair,
These were the folk he did not spare.
Any who read the scriptures through,
I'm sure they'll find but very few
Of my best friends that's mention'd there,
That could with Grier of Lag compare.
Tho' Cain was a bloody man,
He to Lag's latchets never came,
In shedding of the blood of those,
Who did my laws and ways oppose.
He did resemble Pharaoh near,
In this, that he shook off all fear.
