Harmless enough, though ne'er a word of grace in it,
When, lo! that curate came and took the bass in it!
One day, when passing through a quiet street,
He stopped awhile and joined a Punch's gathering;
And chuckled more than solemn folk think meet,
To see that gentleman his Judy lathering;
And heard, as Punch was being treated penalty,
That phantom curate laughing all hyaenally.
Now at a picnic, 'mid fair golden curls,
Bright eyes, straw hats, bottines that fit amazingly,
A croquet-bout is planned by all the girls;
And he, consenting, speaks of croquet praisingly;
But suddenly declines to play at all in it--
The curate fiend has come to take a ball in it!
Next, when at quiet sea-side village, freed
From cares episcopal and ties monarchical,
He grows his beard, and smokes his fragrant weed,
In manner anything but hierarchical--
He sees--and fixes an unearthly stare on it--
That curate's face, with half a yard of hair on it!
At length he gave a charge, and spake this word:
"Vicars, your curates to enjoyment urge ye may;
To check their harmless pleasuring's absurd;
What laymen do without reproach, my clergy may."
He spake, and lo! at this concluding word of him,
The curate vanished--no one since has heard of him.
The Sensation Captain
No nobler captain ever trod
Than CAPTAIN PARKLEBURY TODD,
So good--so wise--so brave, he!
But still, as all his friends would own,
He had one folly--one alone--
This Captain in the Navy.
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