Paddy’s Farewell to the Priest

Paddy’s Farewell to the Priest – PDF format

The priest of the parish got up in the morning,
And ordered his clerk all his people to warn:
Before his tribunal each one should appear
Where he sat as God their “confessions” to hear.

Then Paddy rose quickly and sent the priest word
That his soul had escaped from the snare like a bird
The net of the fowler, and now he would tell
His reasons for bidding “his reverence” farewell.

Farewell and forever, to teachers of lies!
The Word of God written has opened my eyes;
I see your imposture as plain as the light;
You only can flourish in darkness and night.

Your merchandise old now has no charm for me;
The “pearl of great price” in the Bible I see;
The joy that now fills me no language can tell –
So, priest of the parish, I bid you farewell.

Farewell to your worship of pictures and stones!
Your rags and your relics, your rotten old bones!
Your images, winking, bleating impostures,
Twenty “Ave Marias” and two “Pater-Nosters”!

The second commandment you cunningly hide;
Idolatrous worship for “Christians” provide;
Where mysteries Pagan and Jewish combine,
A mockery Satanic of worship Divine.

Farewell to the mass, ̓tis a blasphemous cheat!
What! worship a wafer the vermin may eat?
It grew in a field, it was thrashed with a flail;
Twas winnowed and fanned, then ground into meal.

Twas boiled in a saucepan, and made into paste;
Twas clipped with scissors – the mice ate the waste;
Twas stamped with a figure – a cross and a man;
Twas put on the fire and then baked in a pan.

Of Satan, a masterpiece, chief work of hell!
To gods made of flour forever farewell!
Farewell to your worship in muttering tone –
An offering of fools in a jargon unknown!

Your antics and turnings, bowing and scraping,
Postures and twisting, grimacing and aping!
The Word of the Lord by your trash you disguise,
And cheat all the world by your refuge of lies.

Farewell to your cursings, your bludgeons and sticks,
The “Mother of Harlots”, and Jezebel’s tricks;
Go, stand on the necks of your minions and tools!
Go, blow out your candles on asses and fools!

I pity the slave who allows your control –
Who feels all the weight of your chains on his soul.
The power of the truth has now broken the spell,
So, priest of the parish, I bid you farewell.

Author Unknown (slightly edited)

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