Times the priest he’s flabbergasted; once he set the bishop thinkin’;
That he did, Man—“ups and ats” him, “lets him have it purty straight.”
Och, ’twould do you good to hear him, with an “audjunce” round him gawkin’,
Tell of openin’s here and “big days,” puttin’ modern feats to scorn;
And the banquets and the speeches, and the “Arrah, don’t be talkin’,
Sure the half of them that’s livin’ now don’t know that they are born.”
And the priests he knew by dozens, and the strugglin’ and the strivin’,
And the failure starin’ at ’em, had he left ’em in the lurch;
Times and times he travelled with ’em, and “tremenjus” was the drivin’—
Pshaw, a hundred miles was larkin’ to the Pillar of the Church.