 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
THE POOR OLD VICAR.
I am only a poor old Vicar,
And my head is growing gray;
And the ladies pass me quicker,
Or they turn the other way.
For they say, we like them younger,
With their faces fresh and glad;
And our hearts they fondly hunger
For the compliments we had—
For the sugar plums and speeches,
And the fingers warm and white,
Not the hands that feel like leeches,
And the lips that don't invite.
And my head is growing gray;
And the ladies pass me quicker,
Or they turn the other way.
For they say, we like them younger,
With their faces fresh and glad;
And our hearts they fondly hunger
For the compliments we had—
For the sugar plums and speeches,
And the fingers warm and white,
Not the hands that feel like leeches,
And the lips that don't invite.
I am only a poor old Vicar,
And the ladies think me slow;
And they say, Why not go quicker?
But, alas! I am no go.
Oh, they like them trim and tender,
When they have a verdant charm;
And they sigh, “What's our defender,
If not the Vicar's arm?”
If you give us but a Curate,
We will try to be content;
You can pay him with a pew-rate,
Encumbering incumbent.”
And the ladies think me slow;
And they say, Why not go quicker?
But, alas! I am no go.
Oh, they like them trim and tender,
When they have a verdant charm;
544
If not the Vicar's arm?”
If you give us but a Curate,
We will try to be content;
You can pay him with a pew-rate,
Encumbering incumbent.”
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |