If a Sunday school is started, he's the very man to teach,
If you snub him he may hate it, but he'll never show he's vexed.
He can spend his days in visiting the alleys and the slums,
And support his own existence, and his family's, on crumbs.
Come, come, Sir, you are generous. What! eighty pounds a year?
It's a fortune for a Vicar; I am sure he won't refuse.
Why it's sixteen hundred shillings, he will take it, never fear;
For though priests are scarcely beggars, yet they can't afford to choose.
He hasn't got a single vice; I'll guarantee him sound,
And he'll make a crown go farther than an ordinary pound.