Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/533
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THE GARDENER'S SONG.
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The rector eyed the youth, his zeal approved,
And gave a Bible, which he dearly loved.
This made the enraged father storm and curse,
Lock up the book, and use his son the worse.
And gave a Bible, which he dearly loved.
This made the enraged father storm and curse,
Lock up the book, and use his son the worse.
At length, one Sunday morn, it came to pass,
The father dragged the struggling hoy to mass;
The zealous Papists helped to force him in,
And begged the priest to pardon all his sin.
"No, by the mass," he said, "I cannot bless
Nor pardon—till the culprit first confess."
"Well," said the boy, "supposing I were willing,
What is your charge?"—"I'll charge you but a shilling."
"Must all men pay, and all men make confession?"
"Yes, every man of Catholic profession."
The father dragged the struggling hoy to mass;
The zealous Papists helped to force him in,
And begged the priest to pardon all his sin.
"No, by the mass," he said, "I cannot bless
Nor pardon—till the culprit first confess."
"Well," said the boy, "supposing I were willing,
What is your charge?"—"I'll charge you but a shilling."
"Must all men pay, and all men make confession?"
"Yes, every man of Catholic profession."
"And to whom do you confess?"—"Why, the dean."
"And does he charge you?"—"Yes, a white thirteen."
"And do your deans confess?"—"Yes, boy, they do
Confess to bishops, and pay sharply too!"
"Do bishops, Sir, confess, pay, and to whom?"
"Why, they confess, and pay the Church or Rome."
"Well," quoth the boy, "all this is mighty odd!—
But does the Pope confess?"—"O yes—to God."
"And does God charge the Pope?" "No," quoth the priest,
"He charges nothing."—"O, then God's the best—
God's able to forgive, and always willing;
To him I shall confess, and save my shilling!"
"And does he charge you?"—"Yes, a white thirteen."
"And do your deans confess?"—"Yes, boy, they do
Confess to bishops, and pay sharply too!"
"Do bishops, Sir, confess, pay, and to whom?"
"Why, they confess, and pay the Church or Rome."
"Well," quoth the boy, "all this is mighty odd!—
But does the Pope confess?"—"O yes—to God."
"And does God charge the Pope?" "No," quoth the priest,
"He charges nothing."—"O, then God's the best—
God's able to forgive, and always willing;
To him I shall confess, and save my shilling!"
The Gardener's Song.
Sung at the Anniversary Dinner of the Horticultural Society in Dublin in 1817.
When the tendrils of love once strike root in the heart,
They shoot freely without cultivation;
If the sun of encouragement warmth but impart
To the soil of a sweet inclination.
They shoot freely without cultivation;
If the sun of encouragement warmth but impart
To the soil of a sweet inclination.
Yet in this wide world's borders, wherever 'tis found,
The Bindweed of interest gets seed in;
Anymoney and Marygold cover the ground,
While beneath the sweet Rose, Love lies bleeding.
The Bindweed of interest gets seed in;
Anymoney and Marygold cover the ground,
While beneath the sweet Rose, Love lies bleeding.
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