How he rear’d his reverend whites, and softly said
A long most Murcifull, or O Al——
Then out he whines the rest like a 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 aime his chiefest glory,
T’ excell the City Dames in speaking fine,
O for the drippings of an old Sir loyne,
Instead of Aron’s ointment for his face,