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Be dead to yourself and to your kind,

Be dead to this place called earth.

Be dead to its drink and food so fine,

Be dead to its sorrows and mirth.

Be dead to earth’s banks with their borrowed loans,

Be dead to the flash of gold.

Be dead to the wide range of entertainment,

Be dead to its tales, thrice told.

Be dead to big houses and lands, yea dead to tents as well.

Be dead to the call of fleshly sins, as Adam and Eve once fell.

Be dead to the titles of “doctor” and “sir,”

Be dead to awards from the rich.

Be dead to the pride such allurements bestir,

Be dead to their wild sale’s pitch.

And when you have died – “died out” to it all,

Died out to the crest and the trough,

Died out to fame’s loss – to its rise and fall,

Died out to all touched by moth,

Know that truth still lives and reigns,

Over all that men know false and fake,

And do all you do,

When out-of-view;

Do it all for Jesus’ sake. -eab, 12/2/07

 

 

Written at Westfield,Indiana

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