Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FRIAR'S SONG, by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FRIAR'S SONG, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Some love the matin-chimes, which tell
Last Line: They may not change our liquor!
Subject(s): Contentment


Some love the matin-chimes, which tell
The hour of prayer to sinner:
But better far's the mid-day bell,
Which speaks the hour of dinner;
For when I see a smoking fish,
Or capon drowned in gravy,
Or noble haunch of silver dish,
Full glad I sing my Ave.

My pulpit is an alehouse bench,
Whereon I sit so jolly;
A smiling rosy country wench
My saint and patron holy.
I kiss her cheek so red and sleek,
I press her ringlets wavy,
And in her willing ear I speak
A most religious Ave.

And if I'm blind, yet Heaven is kind,
And holy saints forgiving;
For sure he leads a right good life
Who thus admires good living.
Above, they say, our flesh is air,
Our blood celestial ichor:
Oh, grant! 'mid all the changes there,
They may not change our liquor!





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