Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ELIAB ELIEZER, by JAMES ROANN REED First Line: The reverend eliab eliezer Last Line: Lies one that never was preached! Subject(s): Clergy; Priests; Rabbis; Ministers; Bishops | ||||||||
THE Reverend Eliab Eliezer Sat toasting his shins by the grate; His ponderous brain busy musing On man's most pitiable state. Abroad the storm-king was raging, And the snow was fast whitening the ground; But its fury disturbed not Eliab, In his reverie so deep and profound. For he thought how wicked and sinful Was poor fallen man at the best; And even Eliab Eliezer Was almost as bad as the rest! And he piously groaned in the spirit, At the flesh which so leads us astray; "There's nothing that's good," saith Eliab, "In these weak, worthless vessels of clay. "Yea; man is a poor, sinful creature Even when he tries to do right; But when he does not, and to ruin Willing rushes, how dreadful the sight! "Now, there's swearing Meg, at the corner, Her case shows plainly, I think, How wicked our natural hearts are -- How much lower than brutes we can sink. "I will preach to my people a sermon, And take old Meg for my text; And show them how narrow the safe road That leads from this world to the next." So he sat himself down at the table, And began with "Original Sin;" And by and by Meg and her swearing Were deftly dovetailed therein. With "thirdly" and "fourthly" he finished; Then turned to his grate nice and warm, When he thought of Widow Mory, and wondered If she was prepared for the storm. "I'll call around soon in the morning, And be sure that all is quite right." He did; and found food in abundance, And the grate with a fire glowing bright. And the widow, with joy fairly weeping, Told how she was caught by the storm; Not a morsel of food for her children -- Not a coal her poor hovel to warm! And that they would surely have perished, -- Too cold to go out and beg, -- When pitying Heaven sent succor By such a strange angel -- Old Meg! Then a light slowly dawned on Eliab -- I can't say what conclusion he reached; But I know, stowed away 'mong his sermons, Lies one that never was preached! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE DEMENTED PRIEST by JOHN BERRYMAN HORATIO ALGER (1834-1899) by MADELINE DEFREES ELEGIES FOR THE OCHER DEER ON THE WALLS AT LASCAUX by NORMAN DUBIE IN THE TIME OF FALSE MESSIAHS; CIRCA 1648 by NORMAN DUBIE THE GUARDIAN OF THE RED DISK (SPOKEN BY A CITIZEN OF MALTA - 1300) by EMMA LAZARUS DOMESDAY BOOK: FATHER WHIMSETT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: REV. PERCY FERGUSON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THIS SIDE OF CALVIN by PHYLLIS MCGINLEY WHAT WAS LEFT OVER; FOR SUJATA BHATT by ELEANOR WILNER |
|