University of Virginia Library

THE CURATE.

Devoted, modest, pure, and kind,
And bountiful on means too small,
A gentleman in heart and mind,
With Christian courtesies to all,
Forth on his mission every day
To combat wrong and comfort right,
The humble Curate goes his way
And makes his track a stream of light.
To give the contrite conscience ease,
To battle sin, and sloth, and care,
He mounts the garret of disease,
And treads the cellar of despair;
No matter—day and night the same—
His joy and glory are to go
And banish, in his Master's name,
The parasites of guilt and woe.

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Ah! would that, when Advancement's hour
Makes him a Rector or a Dean,
As strong in faith and grace's power
This reverend man may then be seen!
Beware, O tempted soul, beware
Lest worldliness o'ercloud the mind,
And as you climb the Church's stair
You leave your excellence behind.
Too many have I seen, bereft
Of gifts and graces as they rise,
Till to a bishop little 's left
Of what is Worth beyond the skies:
The deadening influence of wealth,
And dignities, and fines, and fees,
Degrade from spiritual health,
Our curates into—such as these.
Take warning, brother! put aside
The world's ambition and its lust;
Go on in good: He will provide
For those who work, and pray, and trust:
Provide—not mitre, stall, nor rank,
(Such riches make too many poor)—
But, means enough,—with grace to thank
Your Master that he gives no more.
Take warning, too, ye mere church drones
That eat the honey of our hive,
Leaving the curate skin and bones,
While you like fat Jeshurun thrive,—

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The time is come, when none may shirk
His duties, waxing rich by stealth;
Responsible and earnest work
Alone shall have our Church's wealth.