The Riders of Contagion

Last words bled from his mouth.    
"See she's rubbed and fed."    
Jake,  an admirable horseman,    
died a passable preacher.    
   
Living in tiny clusters, church    
members were stitched together    
by needle thin men who sold    
bibles and hymnals on commission.    
   
Francis Asbury and Thomas Coke    
shared a vision of traveling clergymen    
spreading the Word by horseback,    
exhorted in fields, barns and frontier homes.    
   
The bishops matched circuits to riders:    
"Does he know and keep our rules?    
"Do people cotton to his stories?"    
"Has he a good horse?"    
   
Jake's infectious smile helped carry his message.    
A half dozen weeks to complete the circuit,    
all he owned carried in his saddle bags,    
clean shirt, new bibles, and venison jerky.    
   
The miasma which now clung to Jake  
could have begun anywhere.    
He was not immune to the backsliders,    
which is why his last words were for his horse.