The Anglican Friar, and the Fish which he Took by Hook and by Crook: A Comic LegendNovice, active 19th century
General
The Anglican Friar, and the Fish which he Took by Hook and by Crook: A Comic Legend
Novice, active 19th century
Fishing -- Poetry; Poetry
While you felt in your heart you would rather have died,
Than ere chance to behold her another man's bride.
Now, is it not so? Yes, I see by those eyes;
No wonder at first they are filled with surprise,
To hear me your thoughts and your actions disclose,
But we monks know far more than you mortals suppose,
And that what I affirm is correct, hear, and know,
For the thoughts of your heart at this moment I'll show.
You are thinking why I,
In a cupboard should fly,
As if of my actions ashamed,
When a dinner I'd got
Of nice trout, smoking hot.
It looks as if I should be blamed.
But so certain I was, and convinced in my mind,
That the question to pop you felt strongly inclined,
Which should make you despair, or else happy for life
(I just mean about making this good dame your wife),
That I thought I had better slip out of the way,
Lest my presence might check what you wished so to say:
It is true I regretted my dinner to lose,
But to cross all my plans I at once did refuse;
For an in'trest I take
In the match, for her sake,
For I'm positive sure she a good wife will make.
And as now on that point you seem both resolved quite,
I am ready this moment your hands to unite,
For your hearts by each other have long been held tight."
"Oh, forgive me! dear father," cried Murphy, with glee:
"Thus your acts to mistake, what a fool I must be!
Sure your pardon I crave for the words that I might
In my flurry have said, in the moment of fright;
It was catching you hid made me think all not right,
But upon that head now I am satisfied quite.
Still I fear, though I'm anxious my fate to unite
With this beautiful dame, that it can't be to-night;
For the dress is not bought which I meant to provide her,
And the friends are not asked she would fain have beside her.
Then, besides, there's not whisky enough in the house
To intoxicate more than a newly-weaned mouse:
But the day after next, if my charmer is willing,
I will snap, for her eyes are than fish-hooks more killing.
Oh, then say, dearest, say,
Will it suit you that day,
From O'Neal into Murphy to change?
But if you would delay
I will cheerful obey--
For I would not your plans disarrange."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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