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Of his each limb, and with strings the odds tries
he. His ill words do no harm
Tir’d, now I leave this place, and but pleas'd so
He cares not,
codis cis Thus finish'd, and corrected to a hair,
They march , to prate their hour before the fair. 15
So first to preach a white-glov'd chaplain goes,
Neatness itself impertinentin him.
Let but the ladies smile, and they are blest :
Prodigious ! how the things protest , protest : se thrort Peace, fools, or Gonson will for papists seize you,
If once he catch you at your Jefie! Jesu!
Nature made ev'ry fop to plague his brother,
Whose air cries Arm! whose very look's an oath : chem bap The captain's honest, Sirs, and that's enough,
Tho' his soul's bullet, and his body buff.
Frighted , I quit the room , but leave it so
I shook like a spied spie –
Preachers which are Seas of wit and arts, you can ,
then dare, Drown the fins of this place, but as for me Which am but a scant brook, enough shall be To wash the stains away. Although I yet ( With Maccabees modesty) the known merit Of my work lessen, yet some wise men shall , I hope, esteem my writs canonical,
Courts are too much for wits so weak as mine: Charge them with heaven's artill’ry, bold Divine ! From such alone the great rebukes endure, Whore satire's sacred, and whose rage secure: 'Tis mine to wash a few light stains, but theirs To deluge sin, and drown a court in tears, Howe'er what's now Apocrypha , my wit, In time to come , may pass for holy writ.