Classic Poem

A LENTEN TOAST TO " ALL SAINTS "

Last Friday night St. Valentine
Was pledged in many a bowl of wine,
Our Patron Saint is now before us,
So join with me in grateful chorus,
St. Joseph , reverenced, and dear,
We pledge you life, and love, and cheer!

We cannot but rejoice that you
The habits of Jerome eschew;
It is not needful in the least
To wander always with a beast,
Especially if, like St. Joe,
One is the " sure enough " whole show!
No lion can compete with him,
For Lion is his synonym!
Unlike Sebastian, you are free
From darts that pierce excessively —
And, here again, the reason why
Is evident to any eye, —
Your darts are always flung before
Another's sting your wit can floor,
And so, unscathed, you bare your breast
Secure that e'en the sharpest jest
Though aimed with skill, could never carry
Against you " rapid fire " parry. —

Another Saint forever sits
Upon an iron base that fits
Above a slowly burning fire,
A horrid scheme, both dread and dire. —
St. Lawrence, — Joseph goes one better,
No fire could his spirit fetter,
For he, himself, so full of fire,
Would conquer any funeral pyre,
And, Phaenix-like, would put to shame
The fate that tried to quench his flame.
In fact, his friends have always boasted,
He is the roaster , not the roasted!
Now last — not least — we come to her ,
Where Worshipped turns to Worshipper,
For while we kneel at Joseph's shrine,
He kneels before St. Caroline ,
And, thus, in him we honor too
His loyal lady, liege and true,
And so, once more, lift high the bowl,
To pledge twin Saints, with heart and soul!