More in the same vein

And now an ode to those budget, no-frills airlines:

I the Lord of air and sky,

I have made my victims cry,

All who dwell in northern climes,

My planes will fly.

I who made the travellers weep,

And deprived them of their sleep,

Treated them like silly sheep:

Whom shall I try?

Here I am, Lord!

Is it I, Lord?

I received your email in the night.

I will go, Lord,

if you text me;

I will store your number in my phone.

I, the Lord of queue and strain,

I will give my victims pain,

They will weep, but never shall

they turn away!

I will break their hearts of stone,

Make them pay for every bone

That my staff will throw to them,

Whom shall I try?

Here I am, Lord!

Is it I, Lord?

I received your email in the night.

I will go, Lord,

if you text me;

I will store your number in my phone.

I the Lord of bargain shame,

I will rob the poor and lame,

I will sell a feast to them,

My bank will save.

Mouldy rolls I will provide,

Till their gorges start to rise,

I will take their life from them,

Whom shall I try?

Here I am, Lord!

Is it I, Lord?

I received your email in the night.

I will go, Lord,

if you text me;

I will store your number in my phone.

The Sunday that likes to say 'Si'!

Following Mulier Fortis' foray into hymn treatment, I thought I'd make my own contribution for Sea Sunday. I have always thought that there is something deeply thrilling about the hymn Eternal Father, strong to save; melody, harmony and words come together particularly euphoniously, showing the English hymn tradition at its very best. A few years ago, one trendy hymn book reviser thought to revise this hymn to the point where

O hear us as we cry to thee

for those in peril on the sea  

was now to be rendered

O hear us as we cry to you

for those upon the sea so blue.

Let us set aside the tasteless doggerel for a minute, and just think of the implications. If the sea were blue, then there would be no peril, of course. So this must be a hymn praying for the benefit of those who like blue sea, which is to say, holidaymakers.

So here is my bid for the new-hymn Eurovision, especially timed for Sea Sunday:

Eternal parent, strong to save,

whose arm does guide the gentle wave

to purify each golden strand

that girdles Spain’s blest sunny land!

O hear us as we pray for those

who paddle round in pedalos.

O Saviour, whose affirming words

blessed bunnies sweet and twittering birds,

who paddled in Lake Galilee,

but never visited the sea;

O hear us as we think of you

who never saw the Med so blue.

Creator Spirit, who would brood

If it were not so jolly rude,

Politest pigeon, gentle dove,

Keep airplanes in the skies above,

O help them safely fly through air

for some do suffer mal de mer.

Ungendered three and sexless one,

Who only want us to have fun,

Who made the mighty ocean deep

For surfers o’er its foam to leap:

O hear us as we cry to thee

For those who like to water-ski.

If some find the grammar a little complicated, they can easily dumb it down in approved fashion:

Ungendered three and sexless one,

You only want us to have fun,

You made the mighty ocean deep

For surfers over foam to leap:

So hear us as we call again

For those who holiday in Spain.