Who put that crease in your soul, <br />Davies, ready this fine morning <br />For the staid chapel, where the Book's frown <br />Sobers the sunlight? Who taught you to pray <br />And scheme at once, your eyes turning <br />Skyward, while your swift mind weighs <br />Your heifer's chances in the next town's <br />Fair on Thursday? Are your heart's coals <br />Kindled for God, or is the burning <br />Of your lean cheeks because you sit <br />Too near that girl's smouldering gaze? <br />Tell me, Davies, for the faint breeze <br />From heaven freshens and I roll in it, <br />Who taught you your deft poise? <br /> <br /> <br />Submitted by Andrew Mayers<br /><br />Ronald Stuart Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chapel-deacon/
