O Lord my God, that glib-tongu'd Aiken,
My very heart and soul are quakin,
To think how we stood sweatin, shakin,
An' p-d wi' dread,
While he, wi' hingin lips an' snakin,
Held up his head.

Lord, in the day of vengeance try him;
Lord, visit them wha did employ him,
And pass not in thy mercy by 'em,
Nor hear their pray'r

But, for thy people's sake, destroy 'em,
And dinna spare.

But, Lord, remember me and mine
Wi' mercies temp'ral and divine,
That I for gear and grace may shine,
Excell'd by nane,

An' a' the glory shall be thine,
Amen, Amen.