SOLILOQUY OF A VILLAGE PARSON.
(A study from life.)
My Sunday's text, what shall it be?
Alas! I find it hard to write,
When the restraints that hamper me
Weigh heavy as they do to-night.
Alas! I find it hard to write,
When the restraints that hamper me
Weigh heavy as they do to-night.
There's Deacon "Boss," whose stubborn will,
And factious spirit I deplore,
Who thinks he ought to rule the church
Since he repaired the chancel floor.
And factious spirit I deplore,
Who thinks he ought to rule the church
Since he repaired the chancel floor.
And back of him is Samuel "Cant,"
Who also holds a prominent pew,
A pompous little vestryman
Who is, alas! my mentor, too.
Who also holds a prominent pew,
A pompous little vestryman
Who is, alas! my mentor, too.
While just across the middle aisle
Sits cranky Miss Matilda Strong,
An ancient dame of pious mien,
Who says my sermons are too long.
Sits cranky Miss Matilda Strong,
An ancient dame of pious mien,
Who says my sermons are too long.
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