Decidedly pious was a little church mouse
From religion he never did falter
Not once did he roam from his warm Godly home
A small hole on Saint Catherine's alter
But he drank the remains of communion wine
To avert sin he just wasn't able
He had to confess to the vicars distress
To have dined at the harvest festival table
But the mouse had said prayer with considerate care
And was granted a saintly reprieve
For the words he did utter before his free supper
Was For What We Are About To Receive.