Help me, Julia, for to pray, Mattens sing, or Mattens say: This I know, the Fiend will fly Far away, if thou beest by. Bring the Holy-water hither; Let us wash, and pray together: When our Beads are thus united, Then the Foe will fly affrighted. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEAD LEAF by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT THE RANGE OF BEAUTY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE ELEGY ON THE LATE MISS BURNET, OF MONBODDO by ROBERT BURNS EPISTLE TO DAVIE, A BROTHER POET by ROBERT BURNS CALIFORNIA HILLS by DORIS CALDWELL ON BOOT HILL by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. COUNTRY SAYING by JOHN CLARKE (17TH CENTURY) AN EPISTLE: ADDRESSED TO SIR THOMAS HAMNER (1) by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) |