Father Couture loves a fricassee, Serv'd with a sip of home-made wine, He is the Curé, so jolly and free, And lives in Petite Ste. Rosalie. On Easter Sunday when one must dine, Father Couture loves a fricassee. No stern ascetic, no stoic is he, Preaching a rigid right divine. He is the Curé, so jolly and free, That while he maintains his dignity, When Lent is past and the weather is fine, Father Couture loves a fricassee. He kills his chicken himself—@3on dit,@1 And who is there dare the deed malign? He is the Curé, so jolly and free. Open and courteous, fond of a fee, The village deity, bland and benign, Father Couture loves a fricassee, He's a sensible Curé, so jolly and free! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUFFERED UNDER PONTIUS PILATE, WAS CRUCIFIED, DEAD, AND BURIED by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER DREAM-LOVE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SMILE AND NEVER HEED ME by CHARLES SWAIN COMPOSED UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE, SEPTEMBER 3, 1802 by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH CORRESPONDENCES by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |