Monks of the Screw
by John Philpot Curran
When Saint Patrick this order established,
He called us the Monks of the Screw
Good rules he revealed to our Abbot
To guide us in what we should do;
But first he replenished our fountain
With liquor the best in the sky;
And he said on the word of a Saint
That the fountain should never run dry.
Each year when your octaves approach,
In full chapter convened let me find you;
And when to your convent you come,
Leave your favourite temptation behind you.
And be not a glass in your convent
Unless on a festival found;
And this rule to enforce I ordain it –
One festival all the year round.
My brethren, be chaste till you're tempted;
While sober be wise and discreet;
And humble your bodies with fasting,
As oft as you've nothing to eat.
Yet in honour of fasting one lean face
Among you I'd always require;
If the Abbott should please, he may wear it,
If not let it come to the Prior.
Come, let each take his chalice, my brethren,
And with due devotion prepare.
With hands and with voices uplifted
Our hymn to conclude with a prayer.
May this chapter oft joyously meet
And this handsome libation renew,
To the Saint, and the Founder, and Abbot,
And Prior, and Monks of the Screw!
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