"_Stripes for the back of fools._"--PROV.
A few weak infidels dismay'd
Our Christian Church to think on,
Look on her strong foundations laid,
"As the Devil look'd o'er Lincoln."
But though they look as black as he,
And gall for ink he sends them,
In which to write their ribaldry,
And inspiration lends them:
The church her glory shall display,
Defended from each evil,
In spite of all such fools can say
Or their sage friend the D----l.[29]
Yea, she shall have her merry peal,
To fill their hearts with sadness;
While Christians, at such music, feel
An honest English gladness.
Nay, she shall have a lofty spire
With weathercock surmounted,
That they may, if 'tis their desire,
See what they are accounted.
Puff'd here, puff'd there, puff'd every where,
Save in a right direction,
Or now the culprits would not share
A whipping post correction.
Will ye be good, ye scurvy rogues,
Ere more your hides I tickle?
Well then--put up your dirty brogues;
Rod! sleep again in pickle.
_No snake[30] in the grass._
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