Copes and censers--
Rochets and dalmatics.

This quandary
Vexed the fairy--
Flew she down to Ealing.
"GEORGIE, stop it!
Pray you, drop it;
Hark to my appealing:
To this foolish
Papal rule-ish
Twaddle put an ending;
This a swerve is
From our Service
Plain and unpretending."

He, replying,
Answered, sighing,
Hawing, hemming, humming,
"It's a pity--
They're so pritty;
Yet in mode becoming,
Mother tender,
I'll surrender--
I'll be unaffected--"
But his Bishop
Into HIS shop
Entered unexpected!

"Who is this, sir,--