‘THE PARSON AND
THE PRELATE’

‘CREEVE ROE’
(VICTOR DALEY)

I saw a parson on a bike—

A parody on things—

His coat-tails flapped behind him like

A pair of caudal wings.

His coat was of the shiny green,

His hat was rusty brown;

He was a weird, wild sight, I ween,

Careering through the town.

What perched him on a wheel at all,

And made him race and rip?

Had he, perchance, a sudden call

To some rich rectorship?

He’d no such call; he raced and ran

To kneel and pray beside

The bedside of a dying man,

Who poor as Peter died.

I saw a prelate, plump and fine,

Who gleamed with sanctity;

He was the finest-groomed divine

That you could wish to see.

His smile was bland; his air was grand;

His coat was black, and shone

As did the tents of Kedar and

The robes of Solomon.

And in a carriage fine and fair

He lounged in lordly ease—

It was a carriage and a pair—

And nursed his gaitered knees.

And whither went he, and went for,

With all this pomp and show?

He went to see the governor,

And that is all I know.

But in a vision of the night,

When deep dreams come to men,

I saw a strange and curious sight—

The prelate once again.

He sat ungaitered, and undone,

A picture of dismay—

His carriage was too broad to run

Along the Narrow Way!

But, with his coat-tails flapping like

Black caudal wings in wrath,

I saw the parson on the bike

Sprint up the Shining Path.