How he leanes ore the cheere toward his first mover!
While his hot zeale doth make his mouth run over.
This Pastie had Brethren too, like to the Mayor,
Three Christmas, or Minc’d pies, all very faire.
Methought they had this Motto Though they flirt us,
And preach us down, Sub pondere crescit virtus.
Apple tarts, Fooles, and strong cheese to keep downe
The steaming vapours from the Parsons crown.
Canary too, and Claret eke also,
Which made the tips of their eares and noses glow.