Once more I put my bonnet on,
And tie the ribbons blue,
My showy poplin dress I don,
That's just as good as new,
And smooth and stately as a swan
Go sailing to my pew.
Once more, Ah! me, how oft, how oft,
Shall I the scene repeat?
With graceful ease and manner soft
I sink into my seat,
And round the congregation waft
The sense of odors sweet.

A finer form, a fairer face
Ne'er bent before the stole,
With more restraint, no spotless lace
Did firmer orbs control,
I shine, the Beauty of the place,
And yet I look all soul.

When to the sinful people round
My pitying glances rove
The dewy tints of Heaven's profound
Seem in my eyes to move,
Too sorrowful their hearts to wound,
And hardly asking love.

And thus for four long years I've sat,
My gloves without a crease,
For two of them I wore a hat,