Father, when we look at thee,
Then we bend our creaking knee;
In your Lenten vestments clad,
Just the sight to make us glad;
O, the cloth is roughly sewn,
Coarse enough to make us moan,
Gone is all the silk and lace,
Dust and ashes in their place.

Forty days and forty nights,
Dimmed are all the vestal lights;
In their place just deep'ning gloom,
Making drear the vestry room;
All the weary hymns ahead,
Will not even stir the dead;
Weeks of choral misery,
'Til thy Holy Week we see.

Study courses are required,
All that work just makes us tired;
Bible study then a talk,
Flipcharts 'stead of board and chalk;
Coffee served in plastic mugs,
Milk poured out from china jugs;
Soggy biscuits on a plate,
This is Lent, and ain't it great!