Steve Doyle
The Carpenter
With expert care the craftsman cut
The final piece of pine.
He planed it to a perfect edge
Giving it straightness of line.
Slowly he assembled the pieces
This master of his craft
Checking and rechecking every fit
To ensure that each was exact.
The carpenter stood over his work
Wiping sawdust from his face.
All the sides and the bottom
Were nailed neatly into place.
In shape and size it was perfect.
He had been meticulous in his measurement.
With great precision he had built the box.
It would prove a proper fit for the President.
With expert care the craftsman cut
The final piece of pine.
He planed it to a perfect edge
Giving it straightness of line.
Slowly he assembled the pieces
This master of his craft
Checking and rechecking every fit
To ensure that each was exact.
The carpenter stood over his work
Wiping sawdust from his face.
All the sides and the bottom
Were nailed neatly into place.
In shape and size it was perfect.
He had been meticulous in his measurement.
With great precision he had built the box.
It would prove a proper fit for the President.
The Glow
It was someone in Sales who first saw the glow.
They always seemed to be staring out the window
As if the answer to higher commissions hovered
Just beyond the glass, waiting to be discovered.
All eyes turned toward the window
As people wondered, “What is that wonderful glow?”
But they would never know.
They would never hear the terrible sound
Or see the mushroom cloud.
It was someone in Sales who first saw the glow.
They always seemed to be staring out the window
As if the answer to higher commissions hovered
Just beyond the glass, waiting to be discovered.
All eyes turned toward the window
As people wondered, “What is that wonderful glow?”
But they would never know.
They would never hear the terrible sound
Or see the mushroom cloud.
The Autopsy
I was having a hard time convincing the examiner that I wasn't really dead.
He was telling me to keep quiet and still and lie back on the bed.
He said he had an autopsy to do and would appreciate my help.
“So just be a good little corpse and don't make a nuisance of yourself.”
I tried again to protest but only brought a stare.
It seemed so fruitless to argue; I could do nothing but lie there.
It was when he mentioned cutting the “Big Y” that I just had to resist.
I looked right into the face of the man and shouted, “Cease and Desist!
You cannot commence to cutting me and opening me up!
And if you think I'm staying still for this, you're absolutely nuts!”
He said, “What? Do you think that your the only one
To ever come in here complaining that he wasn't completely done?
Many have gone before you convinced that it wasn't their turn
But we tagged their toes and don't you know, eventually they learned.
It wasn't me who brought you here and I won't make you stay.
You are free to leave if you like and if you can walk away.”
This I was happy to hear and did not intend to linger.
The sooner I was out of this—
I couldn't move a finger!
I was having a hard time convincing the examiner that I wasn't really dead.
He was telling me to keep quiet and still and lie back on the bed.
He said he had an autopsy to do and would appreciate my help.
“So just be a good little corpse and don't make a nuisance of yourself.”
I tried again to protest but only brought a stare.
It seemed so fruitless to argue; I could do nothing but lie there.
It was when he mentioned cutting the “Big Y” that I just had to resist.
I looked right into the face of the man and shouted, “Cease and Desist!
You cannot commence to cutting me and opening me up!
And if you think I'm staying still for this, you're absolutely nuts!”
He said, “What? Do you think that your the only one
To ever come in here complaining that he wasn't completely done?
Many have gone before you convinced that it wasn't their turn
But we tagged their toes and don't you know, eventually they learned.
It wasn't me who brought you here and I won't make you stay.
You are free to leave if you like and if you can walk away.”
This I was happy to hear and did not intend to linger.
The sooner I was out of this—
I couldn't move a finger!
Searching. . .
I was told not to tease him like that;
Telling him he was adopted;
Saying we were sending him back.
But I wouldn't stop
And now he's run off.
His tracks into these woods had been easy to follow.
But now it's snowing hard
And it's getting dark. . .
I was told not to tease him like that;
Telling him he was adopted;
Saying we were sending him back.
But I wouldn't stop
And now he's run off.
His tracks into these woods had been easy to follow.
But now it's snowing hard
And it's getting dark. . .
The Vision
With a trembling hand I will attempt to record
The events which have just occurred outside the door.
I have slammed it shut and turned the lock
But I fear the thing outside cannot be stopped.
I was awakened tonight by a hideous sound
And opened the door to look around.
I flipped the switch to turn on the lights
And beheld the most ghastly of sights.
Handprints in blood were upon every wall of the room
And there arose a cry of impending doom.
I leapt back again and slammed the door
And I don't hear the sound any more.
But here I shall wait for the coming of dawn
And pray the horrible vision be gone.
With a trembling hand I will attempt to record
The events which have just occurred outside the door.
I have slammed it shut and turned the lock
But I fear the thing outside cannot be stopped.
I was awakened tonight by a hideous sound
And opened the door to look around.
I flipped the switch to turn on the lights
And beheld the most ghastly of sights.
Handprints in blood were upon every wall of the room
And there arose a cry of impending doom.
I leapt back again and slammed the door
And I don't hear the sound any more.
But here I shall wait for the coming of dawn
And pray the horrible vision be gone.
The Knocking
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Who could that be in this raging storm?
Knock.
Knock.
I'm not going to open that door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Ignore it.
Ignore it.
Ignore it.
Knock.
Knock.
There's no one to let in.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
It's only the wind.
Knock.
Knock.
It'll go away.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
It's only the rain.
Knock.
Knock.
It's only the storm.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Who could that be in this raging storm?
Knock.
Knock.
I'm not going to open that door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Ignore it.
Ignore it.
Ignore it.
Knock.
Knock.
There's no one to let in.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
It's only the wind.
Knock.
Knock.
It'll go away.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
It's only the rain.
Knock.
Knock.
It's only the storm.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!
The Intruder
The lights were out.
The phone was dead.
I was lying quietly in bed
When I heard the breaking of the glass
The lifting of the latch
The opening of the window
In the room below.
I heard the creaking of the stair
Yielding to the weight that was there.
Thankfully, I was only dreaming.
I woke up screaming.
The lights were out.
The phone was dead.
I was lying quietly in bed
When I heard the breaking of the glass
The lifting of the latch
The opening of the window
In the room below.
I heard the creaking of the stair
Yielding to the weight that was there.
Thankfully, I was only dreaming.
I woke up screaming.
Columbus Discovers the Edge
My critics said it couldn't be done
But I was determined to show everyone
That a route to the Orient lay to the West.
“Fool!” they all said, “You'll fall off the edge.”
To prove to the world that the Earth was round
We set sail for Asia, westward bound.
For months we traveled with no sight of land.
Talk of mutiny was getting out of hand.
Finally the lookout called from the mast.
He'd spotted something, finally, at last.
Excitedly we raised our telescopes
Expecting the fulfillment of all our hopes.
But the sight before us filled us with dread.
To our horror we'd discovered the Edge!
To save our lives we had to turn back!
My critics were right—the Earth is flat!
My critics said it couldn't be done
But I was determined to show everyone
That a route to the Orient lay to the West.
“Fool!” they all said, “You'll fall off the edge.”
To prove to the world that the Earth was round
We set sail for Asia, westward bound.
For months we traveled with no sight of land.
Talk of mutiny was getting out of hand.
Finally the lookout called from the mast.
He'd spotted something, finally, at last.
Excitedly we raised our telescopes
Expecting the fulfillment of all our hopes.
But the sight before us filled us with dread.
To our horror we'd discovered the Edge!
To save our lives we had to turn back!
My critics were right—the Earth is flat!
The Family Fortune
There's always been a fierce rivalry between myself and my brother
As we were forever trying to curry favor with our mother.
She had become a poor widow since killing Daddy;
A crime she committed to secure a fortune for the family.
(Which would be nicely provided for by his insurance company.)
That his death was a suicide she had everyone convinced.
Unfortunately though, Ma never read the fine print.
Dad's "suicide" was not a covered thing.
Hence no money would be forthcoming.
The next best way to amass a fortune, she believed
Was to teach us the art and skills of thieves.
It's not enough to say we did well.
In my humble opinion, I believe we excelled.
We procured more possessions than we ever thought possible
And only one time did one of us wind up in the hospital.
It was when my brother awoke some old fellow's dog
And in running away tripped over a log
A misfortune for him that was lucky for me
As I had been running just a bit slower than he.
The rivalry that I earlier mentioned
Revolved around this particular profession.
“Who was the better thief?” was a considerable question.
I argued that it mattered not who was more daring
But who returned with the most valuable thing.
On the other hand, it was my brother's belief
That the danger involved measured the thief.
Thus it was that a contest was set up
With our honorable mother as the final judge
To determine which of us was the better thief
My more daring brother or the more brilliant me.
Well, to make a long story short
My more daring brother is the one who got caught.
And in going up there to post his bail
I found the story he told landed me in jail!
Which of us is the better thief remains unresolved
A baffling question which may never be solved.
Anyway it makes no difference; neither of us won
Our sister's run off with the family fortune!
There's always been a fierce rivalry between myself and my brother
As we were forever trying to curry favor with our mother.
She had become a poor widow since killing Daddy;
A crime she committed to secure a fortune for the family.
(Which would be nicely provided for by his insurance company.)
That his death was a suicide she had everyone convinced.
Unfortunately though, Ma never read the fine print.
Dad's "suicide" was not a covered thing.
Hence no money would be forthcoming.
The next best way to amass a fortune, she believed
Was to teach us the art and skills of thieves.
It's not enough to say we did well.
In my humble opinion, I believe we excelled.
We procured more possessions than we ever thought possible
And only one time did one of us wind up in the hospital.
It was when my brother awoke some old fellow's dog
And in running away tripped over a log
A misfortune for him that was lucky for me
As I had been running just a bit slower than he.
The rivalry that I earlier mentioned
Revolved around this particular profession.
“Who was the better thief?” was a considerable question.
I argued that it mattered not who was more daring
But who returned with the most valuable thing.
On the other hand, it was my brother's belief
That the danger involved measured the thief.
Thus it was that a contest was set up
With our honorable mother as the final judge
To determine which of us was the better thief
My more daring brother or the more brilliant me.
Well, to make a long story short
My more daring brother is the one who got caught.
And in going up there to post his bail
I found the story he told landed me in jail!
Which of us is the better thief remains unresolved
A baffling question which may never be solved.
Anyway it makes no difference; neither of us won
Our sister's run off with the family fortune!
A Couple of Thieves
They stole the Porsche right out of his driveway
And returned it to him the very next day.
He was happy to see his car in one piece
As he read the short note left on the seat.
Sir, we borrowed this awesome machine
To learn what it's like to drive one of these.
We would like to thank you for that experience
And apologize to you for any inconvenience.
For the use of your car the other day
Please accept these two tickets to Sunday's game.
Well, he decided, No harm done.
Just a couple of kids out having fun.
But as he sat in the stadium rooting for his team
The hoodlums went to his house and picked the place clean.
They stole the Porsche right out of his driveway
And returned it to him the very next day.
He was happy to see his car in one piece
As he read the short note left on the seat.
Sir, we borrowed this awesome machine
To learn what it's like to drive one of these.
We would like to thank you for that experience
And apologize to you for any inconvenience.
For the use of your car the other day
Please accept these two tickets to Sunday's game.
Well, he decided, No harm done.
Just a couple of kids out having fun.
But as he sat in the stadium rooting for his team
The hoodlums went to his house and picked the place clean.
Hanging
With this hood over my head
And this noose around my neck
Here I stand upon this deck
Waiting. . .
For the floor to fall.
The preacher is reading
From his Holy Book
As I recall the lives I took
Praying. . .
For some salvation.
The people are watching.
The time has come.
Last words; I have one
Question:
Is justice done?
With this hood over my head
And this noose around my neck
Here I stand upon this deck
Waiting. . .
For the floor to fall.
The preacher is reading
From his Holy Book
As I recall the lives I took
Praying. . .
For some salvation.
The people are watching.
The time has come.
Last words; I have one
Question:
Is justice done?
The Raven
As I sat Sunday in my study writing
There came upon my windowsill alighting
A Raven.
I sat staring as I pondered
How upon my sill there wandered
A Raven
As if in answer to my query
The creature cried to me quite clearly,
“Nevermind.”
With wider eyes now I stared
Upon my curious companion there
The Raven.
Had it been in my head I'd heard
The sound I thought came from the bird
The Raven?
I thought surely I was mistaken
Until again I heard the Raven,
“Nevermind.”
I was now utterly unnerved.
From whence had come this ebony bird
This Raven?
Was he some devil or demon sent
Direct to me upon some evil bent
This Raven?
I could not stop myself from wondering
What was the meaning of his uttering,
“Nevermind”
I thought finally he would flutter
And quit my windowsill and shutter
The Raven.
But as I stare he stands there still.
He stands upon my windowsill
The Raven.
As I sat Sunday in my study writing
There came upon my windowsill alighting
A Raven.
I sat staring as I pondered
How upon my sill there wandered
A Raven
As if in answer to my query
The creature cried to me quite clearly,
“Nevermind.”
With wider eyes now I stared
Upon my curious companion there
The Raven.
Had it been in my head I'd heard
The sound I thought came from the bird
The Raven?
I thought surely I was mistaken
Until again I heard the Raven,
“Nevermind.”
I was now utterly unnerved.
From whence had come this ebony bird
This Raven?
Was he some devil or demon sent
Direct to me upon some evil bent
This Raven?
I could not stop myself from wondering
What was the meaning of his uttering,
“Nevermind”
I thought finally he would flutter
And quit my windowsill and shutter
The Raven.
But as I stare he stands there still.
He stands upon my windowsill
The Raven.
Inside the War Room at the Pentagon
There had been some sort of computer malfunction.
An attack had been detected when there was none.
Counter measures had been automatically taken
And missiles launched in retaliation.
It had been a colossal mistake.
But nothing could be done. It was too late.
It would only be a matter of time
Before Western Europe responded in kind.
Suddenly the printers started humming.
The Radar Control Operator shouted, “Incoming!”
As the system tracked the missile's running.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
But wait! This was no nuclear disaster.
Just the morning alarm clock set for quarter after.
There had been some sort of computer malfunction.
An attack had been detected when there was none.
Counter measures had been automatically taken
And missiles launched in retaliation.
It had been a colossal mistake.
But nothing could be done. It was too late.
It would only be a matter of time
Before Western Europe responded in kind.
Suddenly the printers started humming.
The Radar Control Operator shouted, “Incoming!”
As the system tracked the missile's running.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
But wait! This was no nuclear disaster.
Just the morning alarm clock set for quarter after.
The Last Thoughts of a Dying Man
As I lay dying I hold the hand of my wife
Recalling an incident from early in my life;
An episode which occurred long ago.
My father and I trudging through the woods in the snow
Looking for my little brother who had run away
Searching and searching and calling his name.
We hunted for him until after the sun went down
And for days after that, but he was never found.
I see the threshold that leads to eternity.
So close am I to the end of this journey.
My brother ran off because of something I said.
Am I finally going to find him again?
And what will I say then?
As I lay dying I hold the hand of my wife
Recalling an incident from early in my life;
An episode which occurred long ago.
My father and I trudging through the woods in the snow
Looking for my little brother who had run away
Searching and searching and calling his name.
We hunted for him until after the sun went down
And for days after that, but he was never found.
I see the threshold that leads to eternity.
So close am I to the end of this journey.
My brother ran off because of something I said.
Am I finally going to find him again?
And what will I say then?
The Pasture
The pasture seemed an evil place.
There was a presence in the air.
Something that coldly hinted
Of a nightly occurrence there.
At midnight the sound of a horn blast
Brought them like the wind
To congregate on the pasture
To celebrate their sins.
Earlier on this particular night
I had been gripped with fear
When inside my house and upon my bed
The specter had appeared.
I was forced to accompany her
This daemon of the night
Over the trees to the pasture
For this sacrilegious right.
I was offered blood to drink.
They told me it was wine.
Then they held up a big black book
Which I was told to sign.
I refused to sign their book
And wouldn't take their drink.
I wouldn't touch their foul pen
Through which flowed blood, not ink.
They used their flying sticks
To greatly cause me pain.
They beat me for an hour or more
Then held forth their book again.
This went on throughout the night
Until the first light of dawn
When I awoke in the pasture
And all the others were gone.
I recognized Goody B[ishop]
As the one who caused me ill
And I shall see her hanged for a witch
Up on Gallows Hill!
The pasture seemed an evil place.
There was a presence in the air.
Something that coldly hinted
Of a nightly occurrence there.
At midnight the sound of a horn blast
Brought them like the wind
To congregate on the pasture
To celebrate their sins.
Earlier on this particular night
I had been gripped with fear
When inside my house and upon my bed
The specter had appeared.
I was forced to accompany her
This daemon of the night
Over the trees to the pasture
For this sacrilegious right.
I was offered blood to drink.
They told me it was wine.
Then they held up a big black book
Which I was told to sign.
I refused to sign their book
And wouldn't take their drink.
I wouldn't touch their foul pen
Through which flowed blood, not ink.
They used their flying sticks
To greatly cause me pain.
They beat me for an hour or more
Then held forth their book again.
This went on throughout the night
Until the first light of dawn
When I awoke in the pasture
And all the others were gone.
I recognized Goody B[ishop]
As the one who caused me ill
And I shall see her hanged for a witch
Up on Gallows Hill!
* Based on the testimony of William Barker, Salem 1692
War
I leave behind a rising tide
A crimson tide of blood.
Men go down and horses drown
In fields of filth and mud.
I leave trenches filled with those I've killed
And none but flies survive.
The dying cry and the wounded die
Until there's no one left alive.
A generation lost; such a cost
The price of Honor and Glory.
They call me Hell but they never tell
That they sang as they marched toward me.
I leave behind a rising tide
A crimson tide of blood.
Men go down and horses drown
In fields of filth and mud.
I leave trenches filled with those I've killed
And none but flies survive.
The dying cry and the wounded die
Until there's no one left alive.
A generation lost; such a cost
The price of Honor and Glory.
They call me Hell but they never tell
That they sang as they marched toward me.
The Day I Beat Jeremiah
One of our plantation slaves was named Jeremiah
And one day I saw him get whipped by my father.
Daddy had caught the man loafin'
When he was supposed to be workin'.
He needed to be taught a lesson, Dad said.
So he horse-whipped him in back of the woodshed.
It was a few years later that Dad went away
And I fancied myself in charge of the slaves.
I thought to prove myself I would have to get rough
And decided Jeremiah wasn't working hard enough.
I told him he was slow and would have to be taught
Behind the woodshed that I was the Boss.
He took off his shirt and stood proud and tall.
I pulled Dad's horsewhip down from the wall.
I hit Jeremiah with that big awful thing
Only one time—a slap and a sting.
When it was over the look in his eye
Was not anger or hatred but a questioning "Why?".
I thought beating him would make me proud of myself
But to be sure on that day I felt something else.
One of our plantation slaves was named Jeremiah
And one day I saw him get whipped by my father.
Daddy had caught the man loafin'
When he was supposed to be workin'.
He needed to be taught a lesson, Dad said.
So he horse-whipped him in back of the woodshed.
It was a few years later that Dad went away
And I fancied myself in charge of the slaves.
I thought to prove myself I would have to get rough
And decided Jeremiah wasn't working hard enough.
I told him he was slow and would have to be taught
Behind the woodshed that I was the Boss.
He took off his shirt and stood proud and tall.
I pulled Dad's horsewhip down from the wall.
I hit Jeremiah with that big awful thing
Only one time—a slap and a sting.
When it was over the look in his eye
Was not anger or hatred but a questioning "Why?".
I thought beating him would make me proud of myself
But to be sure on that day I felt something else.
In Your Glory
The glory days have faded
Leaving foggy memories.
Hopes and dreams are jaded
Replaced by misery.
You wonder how you got to
This God-forsaken place.
Looking back upon a younger you
The things you would erase.
Decisions that you made
In the care-freedom of youth
The results of which remain
To plague an older you.
People you have known
But never really knew
Were repeatedly shown
There was nothing they could do.
They were longing to belong.
You closed the only door.
You kept it shut for so long
No one's knocking anymore.
The glory days are gone
And swiftly have they flown.
What you wanted all along
You now have it—you're alone.
The glory days have faded
Leaving foggy memories.
Hopes and dreams are jaded
Replaced by misery.
You wonder how you got to
This God-forsaken place.
Looking back upon a younger you
The things you would erase.
Decisions that you made
In the care-freedom of youth
The results of which remain
To plague an older you.
People you have known
But never really knew
Were repeatedly shown
There was nothing they could do.
They were longing to belong.
You closed the only door.
You kept it shut for so long
No one's knocking anymore.
The glory days are gone
And swiftly have they flown.
What you wanted all along
You now have it—you're alone.
War's Minions
The battle raged on the field below
Watched by the Irish king.
He saw warriors he did not know
So he called to his shanachie.
That red giant, who is he
That rides that noble horse?
The man with fire on his shield;
Who does he fight for?
He is the one called War.
We have brought him this day.
But who it is he fights for
Is difficult to say.
Those riding with him, who are they?
Have we brought them as well?
They are Famine, Death and Decay.
They have come from Hell.
And the one behind them, pray tell
Who kills all in his way;
Does he also come from Hell?
That is Disease from whom none escape.
Well, what of Glory and Honor, where are they?
Those two have left the field.
Honor and Glory never stay.
Once the battle begins they yield
To Death, Disease, Famine and Decay.
The battle raged on the field below
Watched by the Irish king.
He saw warriors he did not know
So he called to his shanachie.
That red giant, who is he
That rides that noble horse?
The man with fire on his shield;
Who does he fight for?
He is the one called War.
We have brought him this day.
But who it is he fights for
Is difficult to say.
Those riding with him, who are they?
Have we brought them as well?
They are Famine, Death and Decay.
They have come from Hell.
And the one behind them, pray tell
Who kills all in his way;
Does he also come from Hell?
That is Disease from whom none escape.
Well, what of Glory and Honor, where are they?
Those two have left the field.
Honor and Glory never stay.
Once the battle begins they yield
To Death, Disease, Famine and Decay.
Lethal Injection
Here comes the needle
Long silver thing
Filled with God-knows-what
It's gonna sting.
I'm paying the price
For the things I did
To people I hurt
When I was a kid.
I've been a long time
Waiting on Death Row.
Here comes the needle
It's time to go.
It's supposed to be painless
And not a big deal
But who's to say
How death's gonna feel?
Ahhhh
That hurt a little.
I don't feel so well.
I'm very tired now.
I'll see you in Hell.
Here comes the needle
Long silver thing
Filled with God-knows-what
It's gonna sting.
I'm paying the price
For the things I did
To people I hurt
When I was a kid.
I've been a long time
Waiting on Death Row.
Here comes the needle
It's time to go.
It's supposed to be painless
And not a big deal
But who's to say
How death's gonna feel?
Ahhhh
That hurt a little.
I don't feel so well.
I'm very tired now.
I'll see you in Hell.
Little Boy Lost
I stood staring
At the little boy lost
Whom we had never found
After he'd run off.
I opened my mouth
But knew not what to say.
It was he who whispered,
It's okay.
You couldn't have known
I would run away;
Really go.
You couldn't have known
It would snow that day;
Really snow.
You spent a lifetime
Blaming yourself
Because you couldn't have known
That I forgave you
A long time ago.
I stood staring
At the little boy lost
Whom we had never found
After he'd run off.
I opened my mouth
But knew not what to say.
It was he who whispered,
It's okay.
You couldn't have known
I would run away;
Really go.
You couldn't have known
It would snow that day;
Really snow.
You spent a lifetime
Blaming yourself
Because you couldn't have known
That I forgave you
A long time ago.
The Devil's Dance
The Devil danced upon the hill
Up which the witches were led
Accused of having dealings with Him
To be hanged by the neck until dead.
Here was Burroughs, a minister!
A humble servant of the Lord
Accused of treacherous witchcraft!
With laughter the Devil roared.
George Burroughs spoke from the ladder
Ending with the Lord's Prayer
Which a witch wasn't supposed to be able to say.
Luckily, Cotton Mather was there.
He addressed the murmuring crowd
Telling them it was all right.
The Devil is never more himself
As when He appears as an Angel of Light.
The Devil thrilled at the knowledge
That the execution would continue
That Burroughs' prayers could not save him
And that He would get His due.
The Devil danced upon the hill
As He counted the souls He would take.
The witches? Not the witches.
But those who judged them that day.
The Devil danced upon the hill
Up which the witches were led
Accused of having dealings with Him
To be hanged by the neck until dead.
Here was Burroughs, a minister!
A humble servant of the Lord
Accused of treacherous witchcraft!
With laughter the Devil roared.
George Burroughs spoke from the ladder
Ending with the Lord's Prayer
Which a witch wasn't supposed to be able to say.
Luckily, Cotton Mather was there.
He addressed the murmuring crowd
Telling them it was all right.
The Devil is never more himself
As when He appears as an Angel of Light.
The Devil thrilled at the knowledge
That the execution would continue
That Burroughs' prayers could not save him
And that He would get His due.
The Devil danced upon the hill
As He counted the souls He would take.
The witches? Not the witches.
But those who judged them that day.