Author Harry Graham In Burma, once, while Bishop ProutWas preaching on Predestination,There came a sudden waterspoutAnd drowned the congregation.“O Heav'n!” cried he, “why can't you waitUntil they've handed round the plate!” Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments