Floating one recent day I met
With the gates a'pearly;
Though accepted not yet,
I attempted to get
In a little early;

Such gracious acts I banged to rise,
It made more than a peep,
But attained I no prize--
It was then I surmised:
"I guess my Lord's asleep";

So loudly as I could I prayed,
So often, in such dose,
Though such clamor it made,
He rose not, so I said:
"I guess He's comatose";

So all my heavy trials I
Dropped on his holy head,
Still he batted no eye--
I was forced to reply:
"I guess my Lord is dead";

'Twas then I dropped a tiny sin--
Near no sound did it make,
And for sure enough, then
My Lord showed, with no grin:
"I guess you are awake";

He handed to me as he frowned,
A pass to an address,
I asked "Where am I bound?",
He just peered at the ground,
And said;"Take a guess...";

So, when your spirit can procure
From you pleasure or harm:
"Though the Lord, He shall snore
When thy actions be pure,
Thy sins are his alarm!"