Page:Songs compleat, pleasant and divertive (Wit and mirth or, Pills to purge melancholy).djvu/217

      A Rabby of which
      Who was fated to Preach,
When the Fast-day Ingag'd all our Prayers;
      As his Zeal did provoke,
      Gave a terrible stroke,
To knock down the Poets and Players.

      Another Church Wit
      Who near Woolpack did sit,
Shew'd a Play too, to prove their vile sinning,
      Tho' 'twere better some thought,
      That his Lordship had brought,
A good Homily of his own Penning.

      But a Pamphlet late spread
      Had charm'd his Wise head,
Wrote by one who well knew the Stage evil;
      Some Collier-like Saint,
      Who to publish the Cant,
Had rak'd a hodg podg for the Devil.

      A Jargon of Phrase
      Cull'd out of lewd Plays,
And patcht into Form by the vermin;
      Just in such a way
      As with dull hum— and ha,
Some of them use to Patch up a Sermon.

      The Tempest long made
      And by accident play'd,
Might shame them, that made such a pother;
      Since no one can think,
      That's not Mad or in Drink,
'Twas e'er done in Contempt of the t'other.

      And tho' that abuse
      I'll in Canters excuse,
Who good Music, or Wit never heard on;
      Yet the B——ps those Rocks,
      Of our sence Orthodox,
Who could second such Stuff, I wont Pardon.