One strode on the wind as he would on a steed
"And now," says the Imp, "take me into the church;
"His lordship of Lindum I'll knock off his perch;
"I'll blow up the chapter, and blow up the dean;
"The canons I'll cannon right over the screen;
"I'll blow up the singers, bass, tenor, and boy;
"And the blower himself shall a blowing enjoy;
"The organist, too, shall right speedily find
"That I'll go one better in raising the wind;
"I'll blow out the windows, and blow out the lights,
"Tear vestments to tatters, put ritual to rights!
"And e'en the poor verger who comes in my road
"Will find"—vulgar Imp!—"he may likewise be blow'd."
"He may likewise be blow'd."
Now the wind has his faults, but you'll find on the whole
If somewhat uncouth, he's an orthodox soul;
He wouldn't blow hard on a monarch, I ween,
Nor ruffle the robes of a bishop or dean;
And if for dissenters he cares not the least,
You won't catch him blowing up deacon or priest;
The man in the street he may rudely unrig,
But he snatches not judge's or barrister's wig.
When he enters a church, as the musical know,
'Tis only to make the sweet organ-pipes blow:
The toot on the "choir" or the "swell" or the "great,"
And hence at the Imp he was justly irate;
So in sorrowful anger he said to the elf,
"No! here I shall stop, you may go by yourself."
The impudent elf in derision replied,
"Such half-hearted folks are much better outside;
"To force you to enter I cannot, but see,
"Till I've finished my fun, you must wait here for me."
