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