by Alfred Perceval Graves (1846 - 1931)

The confession
Language: English 
A lovely lass with modest mien
  Stole out one morning early;
The dew-drops glancing o'er the green
  Made all her pathway pearly.
Young Lawrence struck with Cupid's dart, --
  Cupid's dart distressing, --
As through the fields he saw her start,
  Sighed, "She's gone confessing!
O vo ! 'twould ease my heart
  To earn the Father's blessing."

The Father, with a twinkling eye,
  He watched my boyo cunning,
Unnoticed by his colleen's eye,
  Behind the bushes running. 
"How well," he laughed, "young Lawrence there,
  After all my pressing,
With his sweetheart, I declare,
  Comes at last confessing.
Oho ! I'll just take care
  To learn the lad a lesson."

The pleasant priest unbarred the door,
  As solemn as a shadow, 
"How slow," cried he, "you've come before,
  How hot-foot now, my laddo. 
The serious steal with looks sedate,
  Seeking to be shriven,
But you, you're in no fitting state
  Now to be forgiven, 
So go within and wait,
  With all your thoughts on heaven."

The fair one following in a while
  Made out her faults with meekness; 
The priest then asked her with a smile
  Had she no other weakness, 
And led with that young Lawrence in;
  Her cheeks were now confessing. 
"Well, since 'tis after all a sin
  Easy of redressing, 
Here, dear, I'd best begin
  To give you both my blessing."

Authorship

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2011-05-16
Line count: 40
Word count: 221