Burning Ambition

Thomas was a surly soul who hated getting old

And spent his life complaining that the church was much too cold.

To suffer things in silence was a thing he couldn’t do.

Instead he shivered constantly and grimaced in his pew.

“I pay my collection,” he’d protest, “And look! It’s a disgrace!

Why can’t they spend a little more on warming up the place?

The vicar’s fine, he’s got his cope to keep him warm and snug.

I’d be all right if I had robes wrapped round me like a rug.”

Now most endured his ceaseless moans but one could take no more

And he it was who collared him beside the vestry door:

“My friend,” said he, “enjoy the cold! Embrace it as a treat!

You’ll really miss it one day when Old Nick turns up the heat!”