Page:Pocock's Everlasting Songster.djvu/87

 Besides, my dear friend, to this lesson attend,
 * Which to say and to swear, I'll be bold,

That the corps, snow or rain, can't endanger 'tis plain,
 * Tho' perhaps you and I may catch cold.

Then Moses went on, sir, the clock has struck one,
 * Pray, master, look up at the hand,

Why it ne'er can strike less, 'tis a folly to press
 * A man for to go that can't stand.

At length hat and cloak Old Orthodox took,
 * But first cram'd his jaws with a quid,

Each tipt off his gill, for fear they should chill,
 * Then stagger'd away side by side.

When come to the grave, the clerk humm'd a stave,
 * While the surplice was hung round the priest,

So droll was the figure of Moses and Vicar,
 * That the parish still talk of the jest.

Good people let's pray,—put the corps t'other way,
 * Or perchance I shall over it stumble,

'Tis best to take care, tho' the sages declare,
 * A Mortuum Caput can't tumble.

Woman that's born of man—that's wrong, the leaf's torn,
 * O man that is born of a woman,

Can't continue an hour, but's cut down like a flow'r
 * You see, Moses, death spareth no man.

Here Moses do look, what a confounded book,
 * Sure the letters are turn'd upside down,

Such a scandalous print, sure the devil's in't,
 * That this Baskett should print for the crown.