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American Ballads and Folk Songs
"O mother, mother, fare you well, your wicked Polly's doomed tc
hell, The tears air lost you shed for mej my soul is lost, I plainly see.
"My earthly father, fare ye wellj your wicked Polly's doomed to hell. The flaming wrath begins to roll; I'm a lost and ruined soul.
"Your counsels I have slipted all, my carnal appetite to fill.
When I am dead, remember well, your wicked Polly groans in hell."
She gnawed her tongue before she died; she rolled, she groaned, she screamed and cried:
"Oh, must I burn forevermore till a thousand, thousand years are o'er?"
It almost broke her mother's heart to see her child in hell depart: "Oh, is my daughter gone to hell? My grief so great no tongue can tell."
She wrung her hands and groaned and cried and gnawed her tongue before she died;
Her nails turned black, her voice did fail, she died and left this lower vale.
Young people, let this be your case, oh, turn to God and trust His grace.
Down on your knees for mercy cry, lest you in sin like Polly die.