Fresh Strewings Allow To My Sepulchre Now, To Make My Lodging The Sweeter; A Staff Or A Wand Put Then In My Hand, With A Penny To Pay S. Peter. Who Has Not A Cross Must Sit With The Loss, And No Whit Further Must Venture; Since The Porter He Will Paid Have His Fee, Or Else Not One There Must Enter. Who At A Dead Lift Can't Send For A Gift A Pig To The Priest For A Roaster, Shall Hear His Clerk Say, By Yea And By Nay, No Penny, No Paternoster.