SUMMER HEAT.

Nay, why discuss this summer heat,

Of which vain people tell?

Oh, sinner, rather were it meet

To fix thy thoughts on hell!

The punishment ordained for you

In that infernal spot

Is het by Satan's impish crew

And kept forever hot.

Sumatra might be reckoned nice,

And Tophet passing cool,

And Sodom were a cake of ice

Beside that sulphur pool.

An awful stench and dismal wail

Come from the broiling souls,

Whilst Satan with his fireproof tail

Stirs up the brimstone coals.

Oh, sinner, on this end‘ tis meet

That thou shouldst ponder well,

For what, oh, what, is worldly heat

Unto the heat of hell?