Page:The Bab Ballads.djvu/143

 THE PHANTOM CURATE.

A FABLE.

BISHOP once—I will not name his see— &emsp;Annoyed his clergy in the mode conventional; From pulpit-shackles never set them free,
 * And found a sin where sin was unintentional.
 * All pleasures ended in abuse auricular—
 * The Bishop was so terribly particular.

Though, on the whole, a wise and upright man,
 * He sought to make of human pleasures clearances;

And form his priests on that much-lauded plan
 * Which pays undue attention to appearances.
 * He couldn't do good deeds without a psalm in 'em,
 * Although, in truth, he bore away the palm in 'em.

Enraged to find a deacon at a dance,
 * Or catch a curate at some mild frivolity,

He sought by open censure to enhance
 * Their dread of joining harmless social jollity.
 * Yet he enjoyed (a fact of notoriety)
 * The ordinary pleasures of society.