Pass on to Isaac Brown, a man elect, Wesleyan stout, our wealthiest of his sect; Who bought and still buys land, none quite sees how, Whilst all his shrewdness and success allow. On Crashton's mortgage he has money lent, He takes a quiet bill at ten per cent, The local public business much he sways, He's learned in every neighbour's means and ways, For comfort cares, for fashion not a whit, Nor if the gentry to their ranks admit. All preachers love him; he can best afford The unctuous converse and the unctuous board; Ev'n the poor nag, slow-rattling up the road In ancient rusty gig a pious load, Wags his weak tail, and strikes a brisker trot, Approaching Brownstown, Isaac's pleasant lot. For though at Poor House Board was never known A flintier Guardian-angel than good Brown, As each old hag and shivering child can tell,— Go dine with Isaac, and he feeds you well. And hear him pray, with fiercely close-shut eyes! Gentle at first the measured accents rise, But soon he waxes loud, and storms the skies. Deep is the chest, and powerful bass the voice, The language of a true celestial choice; Handorgan-wise the holy phrases ground Go turning and returning round and round; The sing-song duly runs from low to high; The choruss'd groans at intervals reply; Till after forty minutes' sweat and din, Leaving perhaps too little prayer within, Dear Brother Brown, athletic babe of grace, Resumes his bench, and wipes his reeking face. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOD'S YOUTH by LOUIS UNTERMEYER DISASTER by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY MADRIGAL by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN SONNET: SILENCE by THOMAS HOOD CITY ROOFS by CHARLES HANSON TOWNE TO BESSIE HAWES, MAY QUEEN by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD |