They gather at the chapel door
Defying all restraint, all law,
Jigging the Devil's own see-saw—
          Ten evil men.
The hidden cymbals clash a ding,
Ten wicked brothers, chanting, sing
With fearful, sad, uncanny ring,
          These evil ten.

With knotted circles on each brow
The wicked brothers make a vow
To go the limit down the slough.
          Have they gone mad?
They stand before the chapter door
Raising their hands. The Dragon's claw
Drags them along forevermore.
          How very sad!

Their lips are parted back, how strange
hose pointed teeth. See them arrange
The eyelids. Crack—now comes a change
          Over these ten.
With stealthy step like naughty nautch
They enter through the chapel porch
Each carrying a flaming torch—
          Ten wicked men.

Mysterious, in single file
They march along the middle aisle,
Looking ahead without a smile
          They form a ring.
The solemn stillness of the place
Seemeth to cast the holy grace
Of heaven with a leaden mace
          Ready to swing.

The wicked brothers chant a verse,
They raise their heads on high, they curse
And afterwards blaspheme still worse
          With raging voice.
With cadence curiously gruff
They cannot seem to curse enough.
Fierce punishment they surely snuff.
          Let Hell rejoice.

Almighty Heaven, are ye weak?
Sharpen at once thy vengeful beak
And make the wicked brothers sneak,
          Crawling away.
The hidden cymbals clash a ding.
The wicked brothers, chanting, sing
With fearful, sad, uncanny ring
          Their minstrel lay.

That crash—that thunder from afar,
Proceeding from a falling star,
Strikes with a smell of burning tar
          Down from the Arch.
Claws without bodies now appear,
Grabbing each brother from the rear,
Steering them down the aisle so drear,
          Making them march.

They open up a trap, and then
They kick them down, these wicked men,
Into a darksome prison pen—
          One dungeon den.
The trap door closes with a click.
Each devil's claw slips through a nick,
Thus playing slick the fearful trick
          Upon these ten.

The purple vapor oozes in—
The wicked brothers now begin
To realize their deadly sin.
          Oh! Hear them howl!
Poor, fallen souls, they forfeit bail.
The wicked brothers can't break jail.
Standing in line, they raise a wail
          With language foul.

The hidden cymbals clash a ding.
The wicked brothers, chanting, sing
With fearful, sad, uncanny ring,
          Their minstrel lay.
The voices faintly echo through
The dismal prison, wet with dew,
All grimy, slimy, to the view
          This judgment day.

The wicked brothers face a spell
Unspeakable. Their souls they sell.
Loudly they yell the hymn of Hell.
          Meanwhile they squirm.
Their eyeballs glare, each face is blue,
Well streaked with green. They shriek anew.
With pointed teeth they gnash, they chew
          The salted worm.

Too late to expiate their sin
Now lock the wicked brothers in
Forever, in the burning bin.
          Sharpen the spear.
The little robin on the tree,
As sprightly as a bumble bee,
Warbles to me so happy, free,
          The chippy dear.

The hidden cymbals clash a ding,
The wicked brothers, chanting, sing
With fearful, sad, uncanny ring
          Forevermore.
Please come with me and take a look
Into the peep-hole. Let us crook
One eye—ah, what a hellish nook
          Under the floor.

The silken raven on the oak,
That smoky moke, seemeth to choke,
Then gives a croak, sarcastic joke,
          Grotesquely queer.
Ten thousand years have flown by,
And still the wicked brothers cry,
Cursing their luck forever, aye,
Caught in the weir.

Behold the wicked brothers quake
With bleeding livers. See them shake.
They doubtless find the burning lake
          Disgusting, foul.
Their eyes are bulging—how they stick
Beyond their sockets! Let them lick
The dust of Hades. Jab them quick,
          And make them howl.

The wicked brothers sip the cup,
Both soul and body eaten up,
Tormented by the Devil's pup,
That beast of prey.
The canine watches near the door,
Barking with malice. Feeling sore,
The brothers howl for evermore
In blank dismay.

Forever let their dismal yell,
The song of songs, the hymn of Hell,
Be chanted in the sunken well
With yellow jaw.
The hidden cymbals clash a ding
The wicked brothers, chanting, sing
With fearful, sad, uncanny ring,
          Forevermore.

The Woodman from the grotto black
Upon each brother turns his back,
Opens his sack, and eats his snack
          Of rancid cheese.
The Stoker of the prison pen
Swallows the percolated yen,
And mumbling to himself, "Amen,"
          Jingles the keys.

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