Priests need vestments that are pretty,
So in state they may propel
Round the altar in procession,
And the Mass of Rome excel.

For the Office in the morning,
Starch-pressed surplice wide in girth,
Hangs down o'er the full length cassock
That is just an inch from earth.

Eastern rites in all their glory
Make our worship rich and rare,
Oblivious to all the people,
Clergy persons make their prayer.

Sacred host and wine of kingdom,
Incense getting up your nose;
Mystic chant of choral anthem
On a theme by Berlioz.

Ditching alb for fur-lined cassock,
Rural clergy bend the knee,
Trying to keep their butts from freezing
In the cold Epiphany.

©Pharisaios Publications 2001

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