For there's no fear but we'll get work,
For him and all his hellish folk,
As long's his Master Devil can,
Unthinking mortals thus trapan. Fal. &c.
Yes work enough t' at' very sure:
But what becomes of all that's poor,
To Purgatory trip must they;
Unless with bribes the Priest you pay;
And there ly a thousand years,
The lesft he'll tak's a peck o' bear. Fal. &c.
The Porter too must have his groat;
Or then he'll take you by the throat.
And a wax candle there must be
Through Purgatory there fo to see,
First to be sure to get them money:
They'd work for that if they'd work for any, &c
They'll take you to a better place,
Without repentance, faith or grace:
And well I wot that is strange news,
For there the Turks and there the Jews,
As bad as ever they were ca'd,
They ne'er set up this hellish trade, Fal. &c.
I don't remember that the De'il,
To pardon sin pretended skill,
But Turks and Jews with a' their cha',
The Popish Clergy bangs them a',
The Saints and Angels they address,
For dead and living they say Mass, Fal &c.
