Dear friends, I now sit down to write,
Some jingling verses to indite,
And give my thoughts in black and white,
On modern popular preaching.

A famine rag’d in days of old,
When Asses’ heads for silver sold;
’Twas in Samaria, we are told,
In days of Elisha’s preaching.

But now the famine’s more severe,
For Asses’ heads have got so dear,
That several thousands CASH per year
Is paid for hireling preaching.

’Tis paid to dandies, college bred,
Scholastic doctrines in their head,
Which they have learned, as their trades,
To suit the world with preaching.

And now we see the learned sage
His yearly salary engage,
And then we see him mount the stage
To let us hear his preaching.

He takes a bible – text doth find,
On which, before, he’d wrote his mind,
To which, the scriptures he would bind
To please the world with preaching.

“Salvation possible,” he says, “is made
“For Adam’s race, of every grade,
“’Tis on condition’s strictly paid,
“To save their souls from ruin.

“The Spirit’s striving with the heart,
“This chance salvation to impart,
“When they resist, then he departs,
“And leaves their souls in ruin.

“Saints may backslide and fall from grace,
“And land their souls in the dark place,
“If not renew’d by means of grace,”
If you’ll believe their preaching.

Protracted meetings are the way
To increase their flocks, enlarge their pay,
To live in luxury every day,
While they perform their preaching.

Author: John Wilson

Signs of the Times
Volume 28, Number 15; August 1, 1860

Below are the songs that were made from the poem using AI. They are identified
by the genre of the music in paranthesis.