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Wrath was forgot, all anger was forborn,
Although his neighbour trod upon his corn;
And in a word, all men were meek and humble,
Nor dar'd the Sexton, though unfeed, to grumble;
He honest man went with his neck a skew,
Gingling his bunch of keys from pew to pew;
Good man to's Market-day he bore no spleen,
But wish'd the seven dayes had Sabbaths been;
How he worships sattin, with what a Gospel-fear
He admires the man that doth a bever wear,
Room, room, bear leave, he cries, then not unwilling
With a Pater noster face receives the shilling.
But what was more religious than to see
The women in their streins of pietie,
Who like the Seraphins in various hews
Adorn'd the Chancell and the highest pews.
Stand up good middle-Ile-folks and give room,
See where the Mothers and the Daughters come!Hey-day!
Behind the Servants looking all like Martyrs,
With Bibles in plush jerkins and blew garters,
The silver Inkhorn, and the writing book,
In which I wish no friend of mine to look.
Nor must we now forget the Children too,
Who with their fore-tops gay stand up ith pew.
Brought there to play at Church, and to be chid,
And for discourse at meals what children did.
Well, be good children, for the time shall come,
When on the Pulpit-stairs ye shall have room,
There to be asked many a Question deep,
By th' Parson, with his dinner, half a sleep.
But now aloft the Preacher 'gan to thunder,
When the poor women they sit trembling under,
And if he name Gehenna or the Dragon,Jack-a-
dandy.
Their faith, alas! was little then to brag on;
Or if he did relate, how little wit
The foolish Virgins had, then do they sit
Weeping with watry-eyes, and making vows
One to have Preachers alwayes in her house,
To
