An Apology To Dr. Clayton, Bishop Of Killala, And His Lady
My Lord of Killala, I find to my Sorrow,
I can't have the Honour I hop'd for, Tomorrow.
But why I'm so wretched, my Friend must rehearse;
For I never can write my Vexations in Verse.
Disappointments are sent to poor Mortals to show,
'Tis in vain to expect to be happy below.
Yet you've a fair Prospect, it must be confess'd,
Who with Fortune, and Station, and Delia are bless'd;
With Delia, whose Soul is so fitted for you,
Who shares, with such Pleasure, the Good which you do;
Who visits your See with far other Designs,
Than conning your Rent--rolls, and raising your Fines.
No longer let Rome her old Argument boast,
That by Marriage the End of the Priesthood is lost;
That, toil'd and entangled in Family Cares,
The Clergy forget their celestial Affairs:
For, had she known Delia, she must have confess'd,
That the Church, in the Marriage of Prelates, was bless'd.
Mary Barber's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (An Apology To Dr. Clayton, Bishop Of Killala, And His Lady by Mary Barber )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Truly Inspiring, Electric Lady
- Unrest Soul: Before Ebola Comes, Onyekachukwu Vincent Onyeche
- मन साफ़ करता है।man saaf karta hai, hasmukh amathalal
- The Communists Recognize Only The Two, C.., Bijay Kant Dubey
- I AM, hasmukh amathalal
- Tales Of A Wife: Yes I Do, Onyekachukwu Vincent Onyeche
- television, smriti chhibber
- Grass, smriti chhibber
- गोरबो इसिँनिफ्राइ -70, Ronjoy Brahma
- I Had a Daughter, Adegbite Adeyinka