So rare a sight was seldom seen,
This pleasant month of May, sir:
There's not a soul but's on the green,--
We beat the bounds to-day, sir.
There's much to do by night, it's true;
But what of that? Fine weather,
And mirth, and sport, make long ways short,
To friends that walk together.

CHORUS.

And mirth and sport make long ways short,
To friends that walk together.

Round and about, and in and out,
Right carefully we'll tread, sir;
Behind's the school, let loose from rule;
The Parson's at the head, sir.
So up the lane, and by the brook,
And o'er the beaten track, sir;
And past the mill, and o'er the hill,
And so again come back, sir.

CHORUS.

And while we walk, good hearty talk
We lads will never lack, sir.

The parish-bound that we go round
Has been the very same, sir,
A thousand years, since first of all
The parish had a name, sir.
I've heard our Parson say that then,
Could you have gone to search, sir,
You might have seen, upon the green,
The very same old church, sir.

CHORUS.

Upon the green you might have seen
The very same old church, sir.

There's been a mighty change since then:
'Twould make a man despair, sir,
To count up each new-fangled name
Of townships here and there, sir.
Well, they who made them think they've hit
On methods somewhat rarish;
But as for me, there'll never be
A name to match the parish!

CHORUS.

No name like that! the word's so pat!--
A good old English parish!

Dissenters say--and so they may--
Their system all surpasses:
In mighty state of schools they prate,
Of meetings and of classes.
But, to my mind, you cannot find,
By hunting near or far, sir,
Any beside the parish plan
To make us what we are, sir.

CHORUS.

There's none beside the parish plan
Could make us what we are, sir.

That is the band which through the land
Unites the great and small, sir:
The parish school, the parish church,
The parish Priest, and all, sir.
Talk of the fame of England's name!
Her glory will be o'er, sir,
If meetings stand through all the land,
And churches are no more, sir.

CHORUS.

If e'er that day should come, in clay
May I be wrapt before, sir!

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