Lost Bab ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

Oh! the centre-divided hair,
And the boots that shine so bright,
And the linen prepared with care,
And the stole and the surplice fair,
Of the Reverend Rawston Wright.

A popular priest was he,
And appreciated quite,
And eternally asked to tea
By the whole of his curacee,
Was the Reverend Rawston Wright.

106

The bishop he said, said he,
“There's no such a shining light
In the whole of my holy see
(Excepting only me),
As the Reverend Rawston Wright!”

And the vicars they said, said they,
“Our duty would be but slight
If we could get, some day,
For the moderate sum we pay,
Such a Reverend Rawston Wright.”

But though he was stern all day,
He'd a singular habit at night—
Indeed, I may fairly say,
An exceedingly singular way
Had the Reverend Rawston Wright.

He'd strike a gigantic gong,
And then, the eccentric wight,
Would sing to a wandering throng;
And this was the singular song
Of the Reverend Rawston Wright:

“Oh, fan an æsthetical flame,
And sing to the moon so bright,
For piggy-wigs worry and maim,
And my highly respected name
Is the Reverend Rawston Wright.”

And the wondering throng would say,
“What a strange proceeding quite;

107

Will any one tell us, pray,
What means this singular way
Of the Reverend Rawston Wright?”

But he said, “I find it pays
To sing it with all my might.
You needn't stand in amaze;
It's only one of the ways
Of the Reverend Rawston Wright.”

And he banged at the gong once more,
And he danced till the broad daylight,
Then his delicate locks he tore,
And he yelled with a yelping roar,
Did this singular Rawston Wright.

And though he's a serious gent,
And a popular curate quite,
No man can guess his intent,
Or tell us whatever is meant
When the Reverend Rawston Wright

Says, “Fan an æsthetical flame,
And sing to the moon at night,
For piggy-wigs worry and main,
And my highly respected name
Is the Reverend Rawston Wright!”