Happy the lab'rer in his Sunday clothes! In light-drab coat, smart waistcoat, well-darn'd hose, And hat upon his head, to church he goes; As oft, with conscious pride, he downward throws A glance upon the ample cabbage rose That, stuck in button-hole, regales his nose, He envies not the gayest London beaux. In church he takes his seat among the rows, Pays to the place the reverence he owes, Likes best the prayers whose meaning least he knows, Lists to the sermon in a softening doze, And rouses joyous at the welcome close. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLACES: 4. EVENING (NAHANT) by SARA TEASDALE GOD EVERYWHERE by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA NOT TO BE MINISTERED TO by MALTBIE DAVENPORT BABCOCK TO MRS. PRIESTLEY, WITH SOME DRAWINGS OF BIRDS AND INSECTS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD ANOTHER JOURNEY FROM BETHUNE TO CUINCHY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |