Related quotes: A bishop once

The Phantom Curate

A bishop once - I will not name him see -
Annoyed his clergy in the mode conventional;
From pulpit shackles never set them free,
And found a sin where sin was unintentional.
All pleasures ended in abuse auricular -
The Bishop was so terribly particular.

Though, on the whole, a wise and upright man,
He sought to make of human pleasures clearances;
And form his priests on that much-lauded plan
Which pays undue attention to appearances.
He couldn't do good deeds without a psalm in 'em,
Although, in truth, he bore away the palm in 'em.

Enraged to find a deacon at a dance,
Or catch a curate at some mild frivolity,
He sought by open censure to enhance
Their dread of joining harmless social jollity.
Yet he enjoyed (a fact of notoriety)
The ordinary pleasures of society.

One evening, sitting at a pantomime
(Forbidden treat to those who stood in fear of him),
Roaring at jokes, SANS metre, sense, or rhyme,
He turned, and saw immediately in rear of him,
His peace of mind upsetting, and annoying it,
A curate, also heartily enjoying it.

Again, 't was Christmas Eve, and to enhance
His children's pleasure in their harmless rollicking,
He, like a good old fellow, stood to dance;
When something checked the current of his frolicking:
That curate, with a maid he treated lover-ly,
Stood up and figured with him in the "Coverley!"

Once, yielding to an universal choice
(The company's demand was an emphatic one,
For the old Bishop had a glorious voice),
In a quartet he joined - an operatic one.
Harmless enough, though ne'er a word of grace in it,
When, lo! that curate came and took the bass in it!

One day, when passing through a quiet street,
He stopped awhile and joined a Punch's gathering;
And chuckled more than solemn folk think meet,
To see that gentleman his Judy lathering;
And heard, as Punch was being treated penally,
That phantom curate laughing all hyaenally.

Now at a picnic, 'mid fair golden curls,
Bright eyes, straw hats, BOTTINES that fit amazingly,
A croquet-bout is planned by all the girls;
And he, consenting, speaks of croquet praisingly;
But suddenly declines to play at all in it -
The curate fiend has come to take a ball in it!

Next, when at quiet sea-side village, freed
From cares episcopal and ties monarchical,
He grows his beard, and smokes his fragrant weed,
In manner anything but hierarchical -
He sees - and fixes an unearthly stare on it -
That curate's face, with half a yard of hair on it!

At length he gave a charge, and spake this word:
"Vicars, your curates to enjoyment urge ye may;
To check their harmless pleasuring's absurd;
What laymen do without reproach, my clergy may."
He spake, and lo! at this concluding word of him,
The curate vanished - no one since has heard of him.

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Shackles Of Fear

Shackle bounded
Bounded by shackles
Shackles of fear
They confine these hands
Shackles of fear
They bind these feet
Bound by shackles of fear
My mind is overdosed
My heart it beats slow
My eyes are wide shut
Lord God please
Release these shackles that hold me in captivity
Lord God please
Break these shackles that hinder me
Please God don't let my fear be the end of this journey
I'm shackle bounded
Bounded by shackles of fear
And I fear the release of my bounded shackles
These shackles they hinder me

poem by Brittany Hooks
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Mr. Me

Once a boy named mister me bemoaned a great regret
I've floundered in the misty sea, but can't abide its mystery
I wound up sad, you bet
So onward go and edward ho into the bounding main
Enjoy the show look out below but mind the misty sea
Or end up sad like mister me
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
So take the hand of mister me and mister, make him glad
To swim the mister misty sea and cease the mister mystery
That mister, made him sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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devil In Heaven

The devil is weak,
The devil is ill,
The devil is dying.

The clergy comes around,
The clergy offers prayers,
The clergy offers him the keys to heaven.

The devil collects the key,
The devil dies and soon is at the gate of heaven,
The devil unlocks the gate and now he’s in heaven.

The angels on guard knew him as a devil, but
The angels on guard made no attempt to stop him,
The angels on guard even said 'welcome'.

The devil is in heaven, ‘coz
The clergy gave him the key,
The clergy asked us to let him,
The clergy asked God to let him,
The key made the guards to let him,
Now the devil is in heaven,
And there’s nothing even the Devil can do about it.

poem by David Oluwatobi Akinola
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Freedom Now

They throwed him in jail
And they kept him there
Hoping soo hed die
That his body and spirit would waste away
And soon after that his mind
But every day is born a fool
One who thinks that he can rule
One who says tomorrows mine
One who wakes one day to find
The prison doors open the shackles broken
And chaos in the street
Everybody sing were free free free free
Everybody sing were free free free free
Everybody sing were free free free free
They throwed him in jail
And they kept him there
Hoping his memoryd die
That the people forget how he once led
And fought for justice in their lives
But every day is born a man
Who hates what he cant understand
Who thinks the answer is to kill
Who thinks his actions are gods will
And he thinks hes free free free free
Yes he thinks hes free free free free
He thinks hes free free free free
Soon must come the day
Whe the righteous have their way
Unjustly tried are free
And people live in peace I say
Give the man release
Go on and set your conscience free
Right the wrongs you made
Even a fool can have his day
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free
Free our bodies free our minds
Free our hearts
Freedom for everyone
And freedom now
Freedom now
Freedom now
Freedom now
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free

song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Boy Blues

Fireflies in dogfights
Runnin hot in the heat
Street noise, another bribe
Things too hard to believe--so head out
My hearts in the country
My feets in the city with you
All my friends are eatin sushi
Talkin bad about you know who-who-who
My tongues talkin riddles
But I just cant seem to find a clue
So I take a swig of whiskey
And jump into the saddle with you-you-you
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Cats in the alley
Rats in my snakeskin boots
All my neighbors think Im crazy
And my girl thinks Im losin my cool-cool-cool
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Dont look to jesus to change your seasons
Its the american dream
Souls of gypsies, road of stone
Cant seem to find no peace--so head out
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues, got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues

song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Break Away

Break break shakeaway
Break breakaway
Now I'm free to do what I wanna do
Time will not wait for me
Time is my destiny
Why change the part of me that has to be free
The love that passed me by
I found no reason why
But now each day is filled with the love
That very same love
That passed me by
And that is why
I can breakaway from that lonely life
And I can do what I wanna do
And breakaway from that empty life
And my world is new
When I layed down on my bed
I heard voices in my head
Telling me now "Hey it's only a dream"
The more I thought of it
I had been out of it
And here's the answer I found instead
(Baby baby)
Found out it was in my head
(Baby baby)
(Baby baby)
Found out it was my head
(Baby baby)
(Baby baby)
Found out it was in my head
(Baby baby)
And I can breakaway to the better life
Where the shackles never hold me down
I'm gonna make a way for each happy day
As my life turns around
Come on we're free to breakaway
(Oh boy you jump for joy)
Now won't you come on
(When you breakaway)
You're free to breakaways
(Breakaway)
Come on you're free to breakaway
(Breakaway)
Now won't you come on
(Breakaway)
You're free to breakaways
(Breakaway)
Feel the vibrations
In all the sensations
Breakaway
Feel the vibrations
In all the sensations
Breakaway

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballad: The Fairy Curate

Once a fairy
Light and airy
Married with a mortal;
Men, however,
Never, never
Pass the fairy portal.
Slyly stealing,
She to Ealing
Made a daily journey;
There she found him,
Clients round him
(He was an attorney).

Long they tarried,
Then they married.
When the ceremony
Once was ended,
Off they wended
On their moon of honey.
Twelvemonth, maybe,
Saw a baby
(Friends performed an orgie).
Much they prized him,
And baptized him
By the name of GEORGIE,

GEORGIE grew up;
Then he flew up
To his fairy mother.
Happy meeting -
Pleasant greeting -
Kissing one another.
"Choose a calling
Most enthralling,
I sincerely urge ye."
"Mother," said he
(Rev'rence made he),
"I would join the clergy.

"Give permission
In addition -
Pa will let me do it:
There's a living
In his giving -
He'll appoint me to it.
Dreams of coff'ring,
Easter off'ring,
Tithe and rent and pew-rate,
So inflame me
(Do not blame me),
That I'll be a curate."

She, with pleasure,
Said, "My treasure,
'T is my wish precisely.
Do your duty,
There's a beauty;
You have chosen wisely.
Tell your father
I would rather
As a churchman rank you.
You, in clover,
I'll watch over."
GEORGIE said, "Oh, thank you!"

GEORGIE scudded,
Went and studied,
Made all preparations,
And with credit
(Though he said it)
Passed examinations.
(Do not quarrel
With him, moral,
Scrupulous digestions -
'Twas his mother,
And no other,
Answered all the questions.)

Time proceeded;
Little needed
GEORGIE admonition:
He, elated,
Vindicated
Clergyman's position.
People round him
Always found him
Plain and unpretending;
Kindly teaching,
Plainly preaching,
All his money lending.

So the fairy,
Wise and wary,
Felt no sorrow rising -
No occasion
For persuasion,
Warning, or advising.
He, resuming
Fairy pluming
(That's not English, is it?)
Oft would fly up,
To the sky up,
Pay mamma a visit.

* * * * * * * *

Time progressing,
GEORGIE'S blessing
Grew more Ritualistic -
Popish scandals,
Tonsures - sandals -
Genuflections mystic;
Gushing meetings -
Bosom-beatings -
Heavenly ecstatics -
Broidered spencers -
Copes and censers -
Rochets and dalmatics.

This quandary
Vexed the fairy -
Flew she down to Ealing.
"GEORGIE, stop it!
Pray you, drop it;
Hark to my appealing:
To this foolish
Papal rule-ish
Twaddle put an ending;
This a swerve is
From our Service
Plain and unpretending."

He, replying,
Answered, sighing,
Hawing, hemming, humming,
"It's a pity -
They're so pritty;
Yet in mode becoming,
Mother tender,
I'll surrender -
I'll be unaffected - "
But his Bishop
Into HIS shop
Entered unexpected!

"Who is this, sir, -
Ballet miss, sir?"
Said the Bishop coldly.
"'T is my mother,
And no other,"
GEORGIE answered boldly.
"Go along, sir!
You are wrong, sir;
You have years in plenty,
While this hussy
(Gracious mussy!)
Isn't two and twenty!"

(Fairies clever
Never, never
Grow in visage older;
And the fairy,
All unwary,
Leant upon his shoulder!)
Bishop grieved him,
Disbelieved him;
GEORGE the point grew warm on;
Changed religion,
Like a pigeon,
And became a Mormon!

poem by WS Gilbert
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Equine Laureate

What if horses had the pulpit on Sunday morn
Would there be as many people staying home
Or would our Churches be filled to the rafters
To meditate with a horse that is free to roam

What messages would an old horse say to us
Maybe of much love and sayings that forewarn
Maybe just some rules that we could all live by
What if horses had the pulpit on Sunday morn

poem by John McCornack
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Wilderness

What sanctuary am I to seek beyond the blanket of your arms
When I can find no asylum in the eyes of another?

Familiar faces seem strange to me

A circle of kings surround me
A circle bound in time and set by destiny to strive
To live and be alive within the moment ever after.

I have forgotten the wisdom of the willow man's secret
I have lost the ability to see with eyes of ecstasy upon the world
As if it were of innocence.

Forget the night unwinding

I find myself in the arms of the one who holds me closest.

What is the dance without the dancer?

Think not that I have forgotten the love that lay fresh for you amongst the rotten.

We are as lost within the wilderness -

I have arrived at the town of my birth to find the generations lost to self destruction.

Is it a lifetime of parading the silver screen you seek?
Or is it that you would inspire the dreams of men?

We have created ourselves a world into which we sink

Free of the shackles of conformity
Free of the shackles of normality
Free of the shackles of reality

I am free for they shatter in binding my soul.

Deserted upon an island

Left alone through a mutiny of the soul

Underground unfound are we
Those souls of midnight ecstasy
That seek to set their spirit free
And be as one as all should be.

poem by David Lacey
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The Fairy Curate