Cast Thy Stones

Cast thy stones, cast thy stones, Come ye one and all. For ne’er were truer words than these: “Pride cometh before the fall.” Come ye saints, come ye church, Let this be our creed: “Despite the beams within our eyes, This worn world was born to bleed.” Come ye thieves, come ye whores, Cast them if you may. A martyr was I called to be, So do so both brisk and gay. What is sloth? What is greed? All is vanity. Have mercy priest and holy bride, For sanity is my plea. Take great heed, fellow saints! For this is my creed: “Forsake all pride and vanity, Lest my cast stones make you bleed.”