The New Vicar of Bray

DO you know Doctor Nott?With "a crook in his lot,"Who seven years since tried to dish upA neat CodicilTo the Princess's Will,5Which made Dr. Nott not a bishop.

So the Doctor being foundA little unsoundIn his doctrine, at least as a teacher,And kicked from one stool10As a knave or a fool,He mounted another as preacher.

In that Gown (like the SkinWith no Lion within)He still for the Bench would be driving;15And roareth away,A new Vicar of Bray,Except that his bray lost his living.

"Gainst Freethinkers," he roars,"You should all block your doors20Or be named in the Devil's indentures:"And here I agree,For who e'er would beA Guest where old Simony enters?

Let the Priest, who beguiled25His own Sovereign's childTo his own dirty views of promotion,Wear his Sheep's cloathing stillAmong flocks to his will,And dishonour the Cause of devotion.30

The Altar and ThroneAre in danger aloneFrom such as himself, who would renderThe Altar itselfBut a step up to Pelf,35And pray God to pay his defender.

But, Doctor, one wordWhich perhaps you have heard"He should never throw stones who has windowsOf Glass to be broken,40And by this same tokenAs a sinner, you can't care what Sin does.

But perhaps you do well:Your own windows, they tell,Have long ago sufferéd censure;45Not a fragment remainsOf your character's panes,Since the Regent refused you a glazier.

Though your visions of lawnHave all been withdrawn,50And you missed your bold stroke for a mitre;In a very snug wayYou may still preach and pray,And from bishop sink into backbiter!"