"A sign of the times, I plainly see,"
Said the Saint to himself as, pondering, he
Sailed off in the death-boat gallantly.
Arrived on earth, quoth he, "No more
"I'll affect a body as before;
"For I think I'd best, in the company
"Of Spiritual Lords, a spirit be,
"And glide unseen from See to See."
But oh! to tell what scenes he saw,--
It was more than Rabelais's pen could draw.
For instance, he found Exeter,
Soul, body, inkstand, all in a stir,--
For love of God? for sake of King?
For good of people?--no such thing;
But to get for himself, by some new trick,
A shove to a better bishoprick.
He found that pious soul, Van Mildert,
Much with his money-bags bewildered;
Snubbing the Clerks of the Diocese,
Because the rogues showed restlessness
At having too little cash to touch,
While he so Christianly bears too much.
He found old Sarum's wits as gone
As his own beloved text in John,--[2]
Text he hath prosed so long upon,
That 'tis thought when askt, at the gate of heaven,
His name, he'll answer, "John, v. 7."
"But enough of Bishops I've had to-day,"
Said the weary Saint,--"I must away.
"Tho' I own I should like before I go
"To see for once (as I'm askt below
"If really such odd sights exist)
"A regular six-fold Pluralist."
Just then he heard a general cry--
"There's Doctor Hodgson galloping by!"
"Ay, that's the man," says the Saint, "to follow,"
And off he sets with a loud view-hello,
At Hodgson's heels, to catch if he can
A glimpse of this singular plural man.
Pages:
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224