He weren't no saint—but at jedgment
I'd run my chance with Jim.
'Longside of some pious gentlemen
That wouldn't shook hands with him.
He seen his duty, a dead-sure thing—
And went for it thar and then;
And Christ ain't a-going to be too hard
On a man that died for men.
I think that saving a little child
And bringing him to his own,
Is a derned sight better business
Than loafing around the throne.
At my door the Pale Horse stands
To carry me to unknown lands.
The people will come to their own at last,—
God is not mocked forever.