Summary

John Phillips,  A Satyr Against Hypocrites

“ Is all their chat, they seem in heav’nly trances;
Thus they trim up their souls with holy words,
Shaving off sin as men shave off their beards,
To grow the faster; sins, they cry, are fancies,
The Godly live above all Ordinances.
Now they’re at home, and have their suppers eat,
When Thomas, cries the Master, come repeat;
And if the windows gaze upon the street,
To sing a Psalm they hold it very meet.
But would you know what a preposterous zeal
They sing their Hymnes withall? then list’n well,
The Boy begins, Hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum,
To the Tune of S. Margarets Chimes.
”
Source: Gutenberg

John Phillips,  A Satyr Against Hypocrites

“ Lest this my ware-house spoil the French-men’s trade.
And now as if I were that wollen-spinster,
That doth so gravely show you Sarum Minster,
He lead ye round the Church from pew to pew,
And shew you what doth most deserve your view,
There stood the Font, in times of Christianity,
But now ’tis tak’n down, men call it Vanity;
Ingredients that compound a Congregation.
There the Church-Wardens sit, hard by the dore,
But know ye why they sit among the Poor?
Because they love um well for love o’th’ box,
Their money buys good beef, good wine, good smocks.
”
Source: Gutenberg

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