English poem
THE RECTOR's CREED
by Arthur O'Connor (1763–1852)
A Rector I am, pray mind what I say, In church every Suncay I preach and I pray, With my black coat, And cravat so white.
Ye men of my parish I pray you take heed, Till I give you a sketch of my time-serving Creed— My Creed it is cash, and my stipend's salvation, For which I'd destroy all the swine in the nation, With my black coat, &c.
I believe in my church, I believe in my mense, I believe that religion is all a romance, With my black coat, &c.
I believe that the only two comforts of life, Are counting my stipend, and kissing my wife; I believe that the people were born to be slaves, To be pilfer'd and plunder'd by us artful knaves, With our black coats, &c.
I believe that my head is the store-house of sense, From which the pure gospel I freely dispense, With my black coat, &c.
As it was forbid by an ancient divine. To throw precious pearls to ignorant swine; Complying with this, my ambition should be, To keep them still bond slaves, ourselves being free, With our black coats, &c.
I believe that my brethren all think me sincere, For at church every Sunday I read a long prayer, In my black coat, &c.
And if they want grunting I'll make the house ring, For at grunting they know me to be quite the thing; I'll sigh and I'll groan, turn my eyes up to Heaven, For no other reason than the tythe that's given— To buy black coats, &c.
And now my dear friends for the sake of connexion, I'll end my discourse with a word of reflection, With my black coat, &c.
To believe as the great folks, for better for worse, Is the only sure method of filling the purse: Which method I'll follow in spite of detraction, I'm sure of my pay while the court has protection, From the black coats, &c.
I'm resolv'd my opinions shall be the same still, With the court, whilst in pow'r, let them be what they will, With my black coat, &c.
Tho' they become Jews, I would join them in that, My faith and religion I'd throw to the cat: For my creed it is cash, and my stipend salvation, For which I'd destroy all the swine in the nation, With my black coat, And cravat so white.