Brittany

In Brittany the churches

All day are open wide,

That anyone who wishes to

May pray or rest inside.

The priests have rusty cassocks,

The priests have shaven chins,

The poor old bodies go to them

With lists of little sins.

In Brittany the churches

Are cool and white and quaint,

With here and there a crucifix

And here and there a saint;

And here and there a little shrine,

With candles short or tall

That Bretons light for love of Him

The Lord who loveth all.