I AM a friar of orders gray, And down in the valleys I take my way; I pull not blackberry, haw, or hip, -- Good store of venison fills my scrip; My long bead-roll I merrily chant; Where'er I walk no money I want; And why I'm so plump the reason I tell, -- Who leads a good life is sure to live well. What baron or squire, Or knight of the shire, Lives half so well as a holy friar? After supper of heaven I dream, But that is a pullet and clouted cream; Myself, by denial, I mortify -- With a dainty bit of a warden-pie; I'm clothed in sackcloth for my sin, -- With old sack wine I'm lined within; A chirping cup is my matin song, And the vesper's bell is my bowl, ding dong. What baron or squire, Or knight of the shire, Lives half so well as a holy friar? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON BRODSKY'S COLLECTED by MICHAEL S. HARPER RHYTHM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON BALLROOM DARK by CLARENCE MAJOR THE LAST JUDGMENT by JOHN CROWE RANSOM THE TOWER OF SKULLS by ISAAC ROSENBERG |