Happy the lab'rer in his Sunday clothes! In light-drab coat, smart waistcoat, well-darn'd hose, And hat upon his head, to church he goes; As oft, with conscious pride, he downward throws A glance upon the ample cabbage rose That, stuck in button-hole, regales his nose, He envies not the gayest London beaux. In church he takes his seat among the rows, Pays to the place the reverence he owes, Likes best the prayers whose meaning least he knows, Lists to the sermon in a softening doze, And rouses joyous at the welcome close. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARADISI GLORIA by THOMAS WILLIAM PARSONS SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 5. SHE THINKS OF THE FAITHFUL ONE by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS THE UNSCARRED FIGHTER REMEMBERS FRANCE by KENNETH SLADE ALLING S. BARNABIE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT OMEN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN NATURE AND ART by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE PRAYERS OF SAINTS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. TO ONE WHO IS WHERE THE ETERNAL ARE by EDWARD CARPENTER OFFICER BRADY; THE MODERN RECRUIT by ROBERT WILLIAM CHAMBERS |