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Young ladies all attention give,

Bloom County, Kentucky

[Published by Request]

Poet: The Religious Telescope, 1842
Meter: Long Meter (8,8,8,8)
Location in The Sacred Harp
Stanza Denson Cooper
Young ladies all attention give,
You that in wicked pleasures live,
One of your sex the other day,
Was snatch’d by death's cold hand away.

Ester 37t, Stanza 1

This lesson she has left for you,
To teach the careless what to do,
To seek Jehovah while they live,
And everlasting honors give.

Ester 37t, Stanza 2

A while before this damsel died,
Her tongue was speechless bound and tied,
At length she opened wide her eyes,
And said her tongue was libertiz’d.

She call’d her father to her bed,
And thus in dying-anguish said:
My days on earth, are at an end,
My soul is summon'd to attend.

Ester 37t, Stanza 4

Before Jehovah’s burning bar,
To hear my awful sentence there;
From meeting you have kept your child,
To pleasures wanton vain and wild.

Ester 37t, Stanza 5 (lines 1 & 2)

To balls and plays you’d let me go,
And dance my soul to pain and woe,
And now, dear father, do repent,
And read the holy Testament.

Ester 37t, Stanza 5 (lines 3 & 4)

Your head is blossom’d for the grave.
You have a previous soul to save.
Your children teach to serve the Lord,
And worship him with one accord.

Her honor'd mother she address’d,
Her tears were running down her breast;
She grasp’d her tender hand and said,
Remember me when I am dead.

Ester 37t, Stanza 3

Your aged years have roll’d away,
And you’ve sinn’d till the present day.
Now take your dying child's advice,
And turn from sin and avarice.

Before the golden bowl is broke,
And life's fair cord receives a stroke,
Before death’s banner round you wave,
Before your summon'd to the grave.

I see no pleasure here on earth,
To trace from death back to my birth,
That would entice my soul to stay
In this vain world of misery.

By faith I see the distant shore,
Where pleasures reign for evermore;
Where songs and seraphims arise,
And beam the curtains of the skies.

Prepare yourself, O mother dear,
For you are now on the frontier,
Where everlasting time shall roll
Around my poor departed soul.

Her weeping brother she address’d,
And thus her faltering tongue express’d;
Forsake your sips and turn to God.
And fear the vengeance of his rod.

If not, he’ll send you down to hell,
Both soul and body, for to dwell
Where fiery billows burst and roll
Around the never dying soul.

Life is the time to seek his face,
His gospel mercy and his grace.
His arms are now extended wide
Towards the guilty, weak and wild.

Now give yourselves up to his trust,
Before your bodies turn to dust,
And while you breathe the vital air,
Pour out your precious souls in pray'r.

Come Sister Anna, take your leave,
Don't break your heart with useless grief.
Weak are my limbs which warns my death,
Turns down my cheeks & steals my breath.

Around my head how angels shine,
With sparkling garments long and fine,
To soothe my parting spirit here,
And wipe away the falling tear.

Oh! now my immortal soul shall rise,
To God’s eternal paradise,
Where throngs of angels round him shine
They fly at his command divine.

My body here must slumbering lie,
Till Gabriel's trump shall rend the sky,
That in the resurrection day,
Heaven and earth shall pass away.

I hope you'll meet me far above,
Where all is harmony and love,
Once more, dear kindred, let me tell,
I bid you all a long farewell.

At this she closed her eyes in death,
And thus resign’d her mortal breath,
Under death’s solemn pressed shade,
That pace this young departing maid.

While friends and kindred weep around,
To see her corpse laid in the ground,
A warning to the human race,
For all must go unto that place.

’Tis the cold grave where silence reigns,
’Tis death’s tremendous dark domains,
Young people all a warning take,
And from your wicked pleasures break.

“To The Memory Of Miss Maria Roush, Bloom County, Kentucky.” The Religious Telescope, 2 February 1842, Vol. 1, No. 14 ed, p. 112.