Part 17 (2/2)
”Don't dig my waistcoat into holes - Your mission is to sell the souls Of human sheep and human kids To that divine who highest bids.
”Do well in this, and on your head Unnumbered honours will be shed.”
The agent said, ”Well, truth to tell, I HAVE been doing very well.”
”You should,” said SIMON, ”at your age; But now about the parsonage.
How many rooms does it contain?
Show me the photograph again.
”A poor apostle's humble house Must not be too luxurious; No stately halls with oaken floor - It should be decent and no more.
” No billiard-rooms--no stately trees - No croquet-grounds or pineries.”
”Ah!” sighed the agent, ”very true: This property won't do for you.”
”All these about the house you'll find.” - ”Well,” said the parson, ”never mind; I'll manage to submit to these Luxurious superfluities.
”A clergyman who does not s.h.i.+rk The various calls of Christian work, Will have no leisure to employ These 'common forms' of worldly joy.
”To preach three times on Sabbath days - To wean the lost from wicked ways - The sick to soothe--the sane to wed - The poor to feed with meat and bread;
”These are the various wholesome ways In which I'll spend my nights and days: My zeal will have no time to cool At croquet, archery, or pool.”
The agent said, ”From what I hear, This living will not suit, I fear - There are no poor, no sick at all; For services there is no call.”
The reverend gent looked grave, ”Dear me!
Then there is NO 'society'? - I mean, of course, no sinners there Whose souls will be my special care?”
The cunning agent shook his head, ”No, none--except”--(the agent said) - ”The DUKE OF A., the EARL OF B., The MARQUIS C., and VISCOUNT D.
”But you will not be quite alone, For though they've chaplains of their own, Of course this n.o.ble well-bred clan Receive the parish clergyman.”
”Oh, silence, sir!” said SIMON M., ”Dukes--Earls! What should I care for them?
These worldly ranks I scorn and flout!”
”Of course,” the agent said, ”no doubt!”
”Yet I might show these men of birth The hollowness of rank on earth.”
The agent answered, ”Very true - But I should not, if I were you.”
”Who sells this rich advowson, pray?”
The agent winked--it was his way - ”His name is HART; 'twixt me and you, He is, I'm grieved to say, a Jew!”
”A Jew?” said SIMON, ”happy find!
I purchase this advowson, mind.
My life shall be devoted to Converting that unhappy Jew!”
Ballad: MY DREAM.
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