Going to Church at Goldboro

Not long ago the fates decreed

That I must while away

A week or two in Stormont town

I enjoyed it every day.

In the early dawn I’d a rifle take

Alone I would sally forth

O’er mountain and glen I knew so well

And the trail that led to the north.

I pity the one who has never been

Alone in the silent wood

And list’ to the voices of nature speak

While they tell him of things that are good.

Then late in the day I’d wander back home

With a tired and hungry look

And the moose meat stew would a-vanishing go

Which our women know how to cook.

Then one day the word was passed around

That down at the neighboring town

Evangelist Strickland would preach that night

And some friends invited me down

A jolly carload there was of us all

With Captain Dickson at the wheel;

While Big Tim sat like a judge by his side

To keep her on even keel.

I brought up the rear with a couple of girls

And they surely treated me well

But killed I’d be with a certain sword

If one of their names I’d tell.

We arrived at church in ample time

And got nicely settled away

As Evangelist Strickland the pulpit took

And said: let us bow and pray.

A wonderful sermon we heard that night

Of Christ and His coming reign

But those who would enter the gates of gold

Must surely be born again.

I cannot tell of all he said

But the message was clear and plain

There’s only one way said he, ‘tis this:

Ye must be born again.

God’s coming soon to claim his own

With trumps and mighty shout

If not for him you’ll get in wrong

And your sins will find you out.

‘Tis hoped that many who heard his voice

From their evil will refrain

That his words have fallen on goodly ground

And that many were born again.