APOLLYWO G’S 
PRAYER 
Nov; I’m kneeling down to weep, 
I pray the Lord my soup to keep, 
Grant no other squealer take, 
My shoes or socks before 'I wake, 
Lord guard me in my slumber, 
before I "bake. 
And 
hang 
my 
n o 
w/ ^ ‘w-. 
~,*n 
j. 
v. #1. s.,.* 
May no 
fuse 
ry 
*r * r 
. i- • 
J * . a .1 
e 
b t.' 
To 
bring 
ne 
bye 
I . 
a. 
b 0 
Keep me safe 
n 
i n 
fc n 
.ey 
And 
grant 
■ no 
t c 
rt 
ur 
And in 
the morn 
n Y' r° 
• - **"*■ 
i 
) 
5 u 
Scorched 
and 
b r 
© 
Tin 
cr o 
\j 1 j 
God pr 
otect 
me 
in : 
CuV 
i. 
1 
\ , 
And 
make 
thi 
S b 
et 
t ' 
Grant ■ 
the ti 
me : 
may 
Q 
ui 
e 
o~-'V T-l 
1.J.U 
e wane 
with no debate. 
When I myself shall ’rise on high, 
In a snowy feather bed, 
Where I long to lay my head,' 
Far a way from all these scenes, 
And the smell of half baked beings. 
Take me back into the land, 
Where they torture net so grand; 
Where no demon shellbacks roam, ' 
Where the Poilys never groan. 
God thou knows st all my woes, ■ 
Feed me in my dying throes, 
Take me back - 
To curse a 
I'll promise then, 
shellback never again 
A M E N. 
