A Sermon

The fish have left the coast a while ago,
Bad luck it is that's in it, faith! that's so,
For there's little you can win
When you'll scarcely see a fin,
An' when food is dear to buy and wages low.

Tis what his Reverence says to us this day:
“Need yous wonder that the fish are gone away?
'Twas the sights they saw on shore
That had scared them more and more,
And so, hadn't they a right to swim away?

“'Twas the couples that were gaming on the sands,
'Linking arms they were, maybe, or squeezin' hands,
Now, there's not a herring sprat
That could stand the like o' that—
So they're seeking for more Christianable lands.

“But let yous mend your manners now,” says he;
“Let the lads all walk together decently,
Let the girls not be so bold,
An' maybe, before you're old,
The fish will thravel back across the sea.”
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