 | Vicar and Moses |  |
Vicar and Moses.
At the sign of the horse, old Spintext of course
Each night took his pipe and his Pot,
[illeg.] of [illeg.]appy, quite pleasant and happy
Was plac'd this canonical [illeg.].
Each night took his pipe and his Pot,
[illeg.] of [illeg.]appy, quite pleasant and happy
Was plac'd this canonical [illeg.].
The evening was dark, when in came the clerk,
With reverence due, and submission,
First strok'd his cravat, then twirl'd round his hat,
And bowing prefer'd his petition.
With reverence due, and submission,
First strok'd his cravat, then twirl'd round his hat,
And bowing prefer'd his petition.
I'm come, sir, says he, to beg, look, do you see,
Of your reverend worship and glory,
To inter a poor baby with as much speed as may be,
And I'll walk with the lanthorn before you.
Of your reverend worship and glory,
To inter a poor baby with as much speed as may be,
And I'll walk with the lanthorn before you.
The body we'll bury, but pray where's the hurry,
Why Lord, sir, the corpse it does stay;
You fool hold your peace, since miracles cease,
A corpse, Moses, can't run away.
Why Lord, sir, the corpse it does stay;
You fool hold your peace, since miracles cease,
A corpse, Moses, can't run away.
Then Moses he smil'd, saying, sir, a small child,
Cannot long delay your intentions,
Why that's true, by St. Paul, a child that is small,
Can never enlarge it's dimensions.
Cannot long delay your intentions,
Why that's true, by St. Paul, a child that is small,
Can never enlarge it's dimensions.
Bring Moses some beer, and bring me some do you hear,
I hate to be call'd from my liquor,
Come, Moses, the king, 'tis a scanadlous thing,
Such a subject should be but a vicar.
I hate to be call'd from my liquor,
Come, Moses, the king, 'tis a scanadlous thing,
Such a subject should be but a vicar.
Then Moses he spoke, sir, 'tis past twelve o'clock,
Besides there's a terrible shower,
Why Moses you elf, since the clock has struck twelve,
I'm sure it can never strike more,
Besides there's a terrible shower,
Why Moses you elf, since the clock has struck twelve,
I'm sure it can never strike more,
Besides my dear friend, this lesson attend,
Which to say and to swear I'll be bold,
That the corpse, snow or rain, can't endanger that's plain,
But perhaps you or I may take cold.
Which to say and to swear I'll be bold,
That the corpse, snow or rain, can't endanger that's plain,
But perhaps you or I may take 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.
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 cramm'd his jaw with a quid,
Each tipt off a gill, for fear they should chill,
And then stagger'd away side by side.
But first cramm'd his jaw with a quid,
Each tipt off a gill, for fear they should chill,
And then stagger'd away side by side.
When come to the grave, the clerk humm'd a slave,
Whilst the surplice was wrapp'd round the priest,
Where so droll was the figure of Moses and vicar,
That the parish still talk of the jest.
Whilst the surplice was wrapp'd round the priest,
Where so droll was the figure of Moses and vicar,
That the parish still talk of the jest.
Good people let's pray, put the corpse t'other way,
Or perchance I shall over it stumble,
'Tis best to take care, tho' the sages declare,
A Mortuum caput can't tremble.
Or perchance I shall over it stumble,
'Tis best to take care, tho' the sages declare,
A Mortuum caput can't tremble.
Woman that's of man born, that's wrong the leave's torn,
Oh! man that is born of a woman,
Can't continue an hour, but is cut down like a flow'r
You see, Moses, death spareth no man.
Oh! man that is born of a woman,
Can't continue an hour, but is 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 is in't
That this Basket should print for the crown.
Sure the letters are turn'd upside down,
Such a scandalous print, sure the devil is in't
That this Basket should print for the crown.
Prithee Moses you read, for I cannot proceed,
And bury the corpse in my stead, Amen, Amen.—
Moses, you're wrong, pray hold still your tongue,
You've taken the tail for the head.
And bury the corpse in my stead, Amen, Amen.—
Moses, you're wrong, pray hold still your tongue,
You've taken the tail for the head.
O where's thy sting death, but the corpse in the earth
For believe me 'tis terrible weather
So the corpse was interr'd without praying a word.
And away they both stagger'd together.
For believe me 'tis terrible weather
So the corpse was interr'd without praying a word.
And away they both stagger'd together.
| Vicar and Moses | |