When on the Pulpit-stairs ye shall have room,
There to be asked many a Question deep,
By th’ Parson, with his dinner, half a sleep.
But now aloft the Preacher ’gan to thunder,
When the poor women they sit trembling under,
Jack-a-Dandy!
And if he name Gehenna or the Dragon,
Their faith, alas! was little then to brag on;
Or if he did relate, how little wit
The foolish Virgins had, then doe they sit