It was a puritanical lad
His name it was Matthias
And he would go to Amsterdam
To speak with Ananias.
He had not gone but half a mile
When he met with a holy sister;
He laid his Bible under her breech,
And merrily he kissed her.
"Alas! what would the wicked say,"
Quoth she, "If they had seen it!"
"My buttocks lie too low;
I wish Apocrypha were in it!"
"Peace, sweetheart, for ere we part-
I speak in pure devotion -
By yea and nay I'll not away
Till thou feel my spirit's motion.
They huffed and puffed with many heaves
'Til that they both were tired.
"Alas, " quoth she, "You'll spoil the leaves,
My petticoat's all mired!
If we professors should be know
To all the congregation,
Either at Leyden or Amsterdam
It would disgrace our nation."
"But since it is that part we must,
Though I am much unwilling,
Brother, let's have another thrust
And take thee this fine shilling
To bear thy charges when thou go'est
As passage o'er the ocean."
Then down she laid and, so tis said,
She quenched his spirit's motion.