On one summer eve as the sun was setting
The wind blew soft and cold
A young man laid
On a bed of fever and
Tears stood in his eyes
I’m dying, mother, I’m surely dying

And hell is my awful doom
Take my hand and
Press it tight for my heart is sad with gloom

The other night as I left the meeting
The spirit it bid me pray
Said not tonight but
Next week only I must go and dance with the gay
After this I’ll get converted
And be a Christian bride
But alas too late
I have seen the folly of saying not tonight

I’m dying, mother, I’m surely dying
And hell is my awful doom
Take my hand and
Press it tight for my heart is sad with gloom

After this I’ll get converted
And be a Christian bride
But alas too late
I have seen the folly of saying not tonight
Mother dear go and tell my comrades
Not to do as I have done
When the spirit calls you
Do not reject him and put him off in time

I’m dying, mother, I’m surely dying
And hell is my awful doom
Take my hand and
Press it tight for my heart is sad with gloom

I’m dying, mother, I’m surely dying
And hell is my awful doom
Take my hand and
Press it tight for my heart is sad with gloom