21
No friendly help, alas! was nigh,
Save a poor monk, who quickly ran
To snatch from death the drowning man:
But when the holy father saw
A limb of the Mosaic Law,
His outstretch'd hand he quick withdrew:
For Heaven's sake, help! exclaims the jew!
Turn Christian first, the father cries:
I'm froze to death, the Jew replies.
Froze! quoth the monk; too soon you'll know,
There's fire enough for Jews below,
Renounce your unbelieving crew,
And help is near. I do, I do!
D--n all your brethren, great and small.
With all my heart; Oh, d--n 'em all!
Now help me out. There's one thing more;
Salute this cross, and Christ adore! 'Tis well,
Thus armed, defiance bid to hell,
And yet another thing remains,
Do guard against eternal pains;
Do you our papal father hold
Heav'n's vicar, and believe all told
By holy church? I do, by G-d!
One moment more I'm food for cod!
Drag, drag me out, I freeze, I die!
Your peace, my friend is made on high:
Full absolution here I give:
Saint Peter will your soul receive
Wash'd clean from sin, and duly shriven,
New converts always go to heaven;
No hour for death so fit as this:
Thus, thus, I launch you into bliss!
His conyert launch'd beneath the ice.
