1640

Fell into some trouble of mind
did the man from Weymouth.
In the night he cried out, “Art
thou come at last, Lord Jesus?”

With that, he sat up in his bed
did the man from Weymouth,
and breaking from his wife he leapt
out at high window

in his night shirt. A troubled fall
for the man from Weymouth,
a fallen man. “Enthusiast”
they’d call him. Through the snow

for seven miles he ran and prayed
did the man from Weymouth.
Knee-printed scenes of great distress
led them to the river,

traced into a boundlessness
the fallen man from Weymouth,
frozen stiff still kneeling where
he croaked his last “Lord Jesus.”