I rose up at the dawn of day

    `Get thee away！ get thee away！

    Pray'st thou for riches？ Away！ away！

    This is the Throne of Mammon grey.'

    Said I： This， sure， is very odd；

    I took it to be the Throne of God.

    For everything besides I have：

    It is only for riches that I can crave.

    I have mental joy， and mental health，

    And mental friends， and mental wealth；

    I've a wife I love， and that loves me；

    I've all but riches bodily.

    I am in God's presence night and day，

    And He never turns His face away；

    The accuser of sins by my side doth stand，

    And he holds my money-bag in his hand.

    For my worldly things God makes him pay，

    And he'd pay for more if to him I would pray；

    And so you may do the worst you can do；

    Be assur'd， Mr. Devil， I won't pray to you.

    Then if for riches I must not pray，

    God knows， I little of prayers need say；

    So， as a church is known by its steeple，

    If I pray it must be for other people.

    He says， if I do not worship him for a God，

    I shall eat coarser food， and go worse shod；

    So， as I don't value such things as these，

    You must do， Mr. Devil， just as God please.