If thee hath drawn a Smile of Late,
From all mine Hand herein Wrote,
Pray, as I tread afore Heaven’s Gate,
Cast Saint Pete’ thy Assenting Vote.
If my Prose gave Food for Thought
And may Stand against Time’s Duration,
Then I Wasted not my Muse for Naught
If ‘twill Earn me Just Salvation.
Yet if my Verse offends thine eye,
And whom might know to tell,
Perhaps Eternity lies not in the Sky
But to stoke the Fires of Hell.