University of Virginia Library


214

GOOD FRIDAY.

Sir Harry, a high priest, and deep divine,
Ambitious much 'mid modern saints to shine,
On a Good Friday evening took an airing:—
Not far had he proceeded, ere a sound
Did the two ears of this good priest astound;
Such as loud laughs, commix'd with some small swearing.
Now in an orchard peep'd the knight so sly,
With such a staring, rolling, phrensied eye;
Where, lo! a band of rural swains were blest:—
Too proud to join the crew, he wav'd his hand,
Beck'ning to this unholy playful band—
Forth came a boy, obedient to the priest.
‘What wicked things are ye all doing here,
On this most solemn day of all the year?’
‘Playing to skittles,’ said the simple lad:
‘Playing at skittles!—Devils, are ye mad?
‘For what?’—‘A jack-ass, sir,’ the boy replies—
‘A Jack-ass!’ roars the priest, with wolf-like eyes:
‘Run, run, and tell them Heav'n will not be shamm'd;
Tell them this instant, that they'll all be damn'd.’
‘I wull, Sir Harry—iss, I wull, Sir Harry’—
Then off he set, th' important news to carry;
To warn them what dread torments would ensue:
But suddenly the scamp'ring lad turn'd round,
And thus, with much simplicity of sound,
‘Sir Harry, must the Jack-ass be damn'd too?’