Aurelia

To the tune: Aurelia

Our church is mighty spiky with smells and bells and chants,

And Palestrina masses that vex the Protestants.

O happy ones and holy who fall upon their knees

for solemn Benediction and mid-week Rosaries.

Though with a scornful wonder men see our clergy, dressed

in rich brocaded vestments as slowly they process;

Yet saints their watch are keeping lest souls be set alight

not by the Holy Ghost, but by incense taking flight.

Now we on earth have union with Lambeth, not with Rome,

although the wags and cynics may question our true home;

But folk masses and bingo can't possibly depose

the works of Byrd and Tallis, or Cranmer's stately prose.

(Here shall the organist modulate)

So let the organ thunder, sound fanfares "en chamade;"

Rejoice! For we are treading where many saints have trod;

Let peals ring from the spire, sing descants to high C,

just don't let your elation disrupt the liturgy.

[author unknown]

page last updated 26 Mrz 2007

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