Page:A Satyr Against Hypocrites - Philips (1655).pdf/12

 Some lazie-throated fellowes thus did baule

They a i hin a moy a meat uh ga have



a ha me uh a ha gall a. And some out-run their words and thus they say,



Too cruel for to think a hum a haw,

Now what a whetstone was it to devotion To see the pace, the looks, and every motion O'th Sunday Levite when up stairs he march't And first behold his little band stiff starcht, Two caps he had, and turns up that within, You'd think he wore a black pot tipt with tin, His cuffs asham'd peep't only out at's wrist; For they saw whiter gloves upon his fist, Out comes his kerchief then, which he unfolds As gravely as his Text. and fast he holds In's wrath-denouncing hand; then mark when he pray'd How he rear'd his reverend whites, and softly said A long most Mercifull, or O Almighty, Then out he whines the rest like some sad ditty, In a most dolefull recitative style, His buttocks keeping Crotchet-time the while; And as he slubbers ore his tedious story Makes it his chiefest aim, his chiefest glory, T' excell the City Dames in speaking fine, O for the drippings of a fat Sir-loyn, Instead of Aron's oyntment for his face, When he cries out for greace instead of grace. Up stept another then, how sowre his face is! How grim he lookt! for he was one oth' Classis, And