Litchfield enquirer., 1868-03-19
1poetrpp.
lFor the Evening Post.1 TYNG.A-LING-TING.

'Oh say! Brother stubbs, have you heard how they Of this horrid Low Churchman who's coming from
 York And who VOWS that next Sunday, he'll preach
 without gown In the Methodist meeting house here in our town: Why, it's all in the papers, and men, they run Can read of the deed will shortly be done; It will empty our churches, for most of our sheep Will take the occasion to listen and peep; And for many day will our parishes ring With the tiresome jingle of Tyng-a- ting" ''Oh what's to be done? can't this outrage be
 stopped? Can't our tottering pulpi.s: in some way be
 propped? Let's run to our Bishops, and tell him the nows: His Reverence doubtless, will shake in his shoes, When he hears that without, nay against. our con-
 sent, A son of the Church has declared his intent To follow, so bindy, his masters command. And to SOW his good seed on another mans land. Come on, let us hurry to settle this thing, By stifing the chorus of Tyng- -a-ling-ting!' So, straight to their Bishop journey they make. And at first the sad news make him quiver and
 quake; But his courage reyves as their tale they unfold; And he says, with an accent decided and bold, Dear friends, there's 8 canon long buried ill
 dust. And terribly choked up with ashes and rust; But we'll oil 1t, and give 1t some wipes and some And we'll load it with charges of Boggs and of And then, as psan of triumph we sing, We'll fire it off with Tyng- -a-ling-ting. So the Bishop he delves, and the Bishop he grubs, And, by dlnt of assistance from Boggs and from
 Stubbs, The canon is dug from the rubbish which chokes It's ugly old muzzle, and loud are the jokes Which it's obsolete pattern and straight narrow
 bore And then they compel our good Bishop of York To hear all the grievance, and stand all the talk; And by night and by day dreary changes they
 ring, As they chime their sad anthem of Tyng-a-hng-
 ting. And then to St. Peters, to open the court, The judges and jury and counsel resort; And good Christian people, with wide-opsn ears, Are waiting to hear priest tried by his peers. And they call up the case and the lawyers begin To indulge in their usual professional din, And by bitter invective and quibble and sheer To show what mass of corruption is here; And really tis shocking! what charges they bring, AS they peal the loud slogan of Tyng -a-ling ting.
 eI. An me! 'tis sight at which angels might weep! 'Tis harvest of tares for our churches to reap! Sweet Charity's presence has fled from the scene, And good men loose temper and revel in spleen; And the Doubters and Scoffers, who relish such
 sEits, Cry "Lo, these are Christians cone judge of their
 fruits And the canon has burst and with dissonance
 loud, Has deafened the ears of the wondering crowd, And the pail of its smoke like garment doth
 cling To the walls that still echo with Tyng g-a-ng- ting Oh! servants of Him whose sole mission was Love, Do ye still bear as an emblems the Lamb and the
 Dove? When he read from your desks the sweet records How He preached In the Temple and taught at the
 well Do the sapient eyes of your wisdom detect That he bounded your duties by parish sect? Oh! bid these small envies and jealouses cease! Join all in one brotherly anthem of peace; And when your glad voices in harmony ring, They'll drown the harsh discord of Tyng-a-ling-
 ting. PRS. Flushing Bay, Feb. 21, 1868.