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The World's Best |
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Said the world’s best of men (to the knowing, known
well As a fish that could swim with the stream) Let us sing to the glory and praise of oursel' My ninety-ninth hymn on that theme. |
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I cannot conceive how a wise man, (can you?) Could differ from me and do well; For my god, Prudence hight, is a god well to do, Alias, Marry Tak’ Care o’ Mysel. The best of all maxims is “Keep what you’ve got” Says Marry Tak’ Care o’ Mysel; So I keep to myself what I know, and know not, Or they who know nothing, would tell. While my tongue is as close as my fist, taking care That I seem to know more than is known, Who suspects that my treasures, pick’d up here and
there, Are bits of flos silk and stain’d bone? God curse that John Fowler, and cobbling old Paul! They would teach beggar’s boys to know more Than your deep gifted men, who know nothing at all About Freedom, and such beggar’s lore. My servant mate. Kit, turns her nose up at me! The tinner’s blear’d lad as I pass Cries, “Who’ll buy a bag of sloe-leaves for bohea? Here’s the elephant goose, in an ass!” The Devil take Fisher and Lowe, with their zeal For the love of the lovely and true! And burn in his pit, Spencer Hall, and Mic’ Beale! What have I with their rambles to do? Yet I’m blamed by Hell-thunder the parson, who sees That e’en Kitty comes seldom to pray: I’d have her devout, as my mare’s broken knees, Why is she not, d---n her? I say. I ask’d her last night, “Why in duty so slack?” “He calls us base scum!” she replied: But we are as good as his master, and not quite so
black, And we don’t curse the chaise, if we ride. Now, God in his mercy, confound squinting Sam, For lending her “Nature Revealed!” But they’d both be religious, as I myself am, Were I king while two backs could be peeled For they’re both gone astray from the fold to the
den; From the saints and salvation they’re flown; From Wesley and Heaven, to the chapel of men, Where the Devil is preached by his own. |

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