the Publick weal. Then COMMONS as full Constellations joyn And their Wise Councels solemnly Combine VVhilst Sacred Majesty incircled round VVith Native Glory as the Sun is found Beaming his Acts of Grace so free and bright That all from Him borrow both Heat and Light Healing Assembly whensoe're you meet The Peoples Choice and the KINGS Wishes greet Their Liberties His Honour You mantain O let them ne'r be Differenc'd again In his own proper Orb let each Star move Not Jostling those Below nor them Above Let no False Fires their dazling Beams display Nor upstart Meteors interrupt your way All Your Debates lot Moderation Calm And Your Results become the Nations Balm Those little Foxes that the Land Defile And seek our Vine and Tender Grapes to spoil Unkennel them and let ROMES Conclave see In vain they PLOT whilst You our Guardians be May Heaven all Your Consultations Bless And all Good Men pray for your wisht Success But our Old Buisie Rhymer we shall lose Who Hawks and Kites and blind Buzzards pursues Vntil at last like a Bewildred Jolt-head His Muse has all her Borrowed Feathers moulted Age makes all stoop How fast the Man descends Commences Doctor and Poor Robin Ends. SCANDAL PROOF OR AN Heroick Poem On the Renowned Champions of the Good Old Cause Inpudent Dick Janeway and the rest of the Factious Tribe COme on ye Scribling Rebels of the Age Come on I say advance upon the Stage Arm'd with Phanatick Malice Zeal and Rage Display your Merits to the Publick View Tell'em'tis You 'r their Champion none but You Dare Counter-Plot the Popish Plotting Crew Faith 't was great pity there was not a Tryal Between that pack of Priests who did deny all And You Phanatick Scriblers who Belly-all I mean that Zealous Sanctified Gang Comus and Hal-Old Elephant and Lang who precious Saints no doubt in time may Hang. And make as Fine a Show as Whitebread did VVith th' other precious four whose Souls are fled Into another World yet 't was unkind To leave such Holy Brethren thus behind Without Directions where their Friends to find Alas poor Harmless Devils what a Pother They make to Troop so hasty after th' other Who dy'd great Rogues yet ne'r deny'd their Trade As you do who their Mistery Invade Proving your selves Jesuits in Masquerade I Laugh to see how you 'd the World deceive If they would all your Lying Tricks believe As how you'rth ' only Men that stand i' th' Gap There to repel th' approaching Thunder-Clap Of Popery which Threatens all the Nation With no less than a Total Inundation Unless prevented by your Reformation This is a precious hopefull Age no doubt When such an Impious Daring Rebel Rout Such Wretched Tools as You shall undertake A Reformation in the Church and State Yet 't is but what we must expect from You Who in plain Terms to give the Devil his due Pretend to Love the King but hate him too Among the rest of this Phanatick Knot Of Factious Whigs Faith I had quite forgot To mention that Fgregious Rascal Dick That Wondrous Lying Son of Damn'd Old Nick Impartial Rakehell whose Romantick Skill Excells the other Lying Knights o' th' Quill So like a Janus does Dick Janeway look We see his Double Face in every Book In which wee 'r Weekly Plagu'd with 's Impudence Offensive to all Loyal men of Sense Who hate both Dick and 's Damn'd Impertinence Well then go on thou Cursed Rogue in Grain Proceed to Write in thy own Lying Strain 'T is Meritorious thou deserv'st Applause By Propping up the Sinking Damn'd Old Cause Which not prevented Ruins the King Laws Go tell th'awaken'd World but 't is in vain You Love alas you Lye Great Charles his Raign How canst thou Love the King or can your Brood Of Whigs when Treason Taints your Soul Blood Ye Damn'd Antipodes to all that 's good But Thou amongst the rest art such a Fool Poor Silly Rogue They use thee for a Tool A certain necessary Implement To Print and own the Lyes that they Invent A Foppish Brazen Fool that 's led Astray By every Cunning Whig that shews the way With what Officious Care thou Plagu'st thy Brains To get the Name of Villain for thy pains Like that Inglorious Rogue that set on Flame Diana's Temple which to the Villains shame He only did to gain a Carsed Fame Such is thy Cursed Care thou damned Fop Whose Pate more sit for Scullens Broom or Mop Merits the Glorious Name of busie Sot And Calves-Head-like deserves to go to Pot. Thou Dull Insipid Coxcomb worse then Beast What Guts and Garbidge hath thy Brains possest To make thy Scribling Whelpship so Uncivil So unlike man and so much like the Devil Sure thou' rt the Spawn of some Ill Natur'd Gipsy Got in a Barn perhaps where each was Tipsy Hatcht up with th' noise of Tory Rory Randy The pure effects of Ale and Beer and Brandy And ever since thou 'st been the Devils Imp Diffenters Bully and Phanaticks Pimp A perfect Staulking Horse unto all those That Hate the King and Love the Kingdoms Foes A Drudging Journy-man a Slave to th' Pope Next Heir in Law to the Heer Van Ketch his Rope One whom the Devil for his Excellent Work Is more beholding to then Pope or Turk Mayst thou at length receive thy Merits Due As Ample as the Popish Plotting Crew So Janeway fare thee well until I see Thy Rogueship made St. Dick at Tyburn Tree Fitz-Harris HIS Farwell to the WORLD OR A TRAYTORS Just Reward FArwell great Villain and unpittied Lie Instead of Tears drawn from a tender Eye Ten thousand Traytors like Fitz-Harris dye Unhuman Monster to the World ingrate An Enemy to the King the Church and State Hadst thou been starv'd 't had been too kind a Fate His Crimes were horrid infamous and base Deserves a total extinct of his Race Banish his Name unto some dismal place What 's worse than injuring Sacred Majestie For which he suftered on the fatal Tree May all men suffer for such Loyalty England may then be glad with Triumph sing When all her Foes are vanisht with a string The Golden Age from Halcion-days will spring Those Wolves that Plot Protestant Lambs to Gull May Heaven obstruct the Engines of their Scull Give them of Tyburn Lord their Belly full Hot-headed Youths have been seduc'd of late Beyond their Wits talk of the Affairs of State Obedience learn to avoid Fitz-Harris Fate Those publick Libellers with Zeal and heat With some unheard of Novels dayly Treat If they write falsly tie them from their Meat Tell th' Ambitious they Fools strive in vain To undermine a Crown King Charles will Reign To be true and honest is the safest Gain I hope to see Justice at Tyburn done If so some hundreds may have Cause to run Give them what they deserve their Thread is spun Bid proud petitioners good Advice approve Make an Address and in one Body move With all humility t'
unreasonable sorrows here Frailty for men are frail may err one time But malice only can repeat the crime Unthinking Senate fed with empty words Of Patriot Lawyers and protesting Lords Abus'd by popular and mistaken friends Serv'd a dull Property for base hidden ends Liberty Property Religion Sweet names and so is Reformation Rank sign of sickly and distemper'd times When fairest names disguise the foulest crimes The cry of liberty helpeth Ambition And strait-lac'd Conscience quite choaks up Religion Of publick Int'rest you had no concern But damn'd a Proverb ne're too late to learn By no experience taught miscarriage tam'd Nor by sad Instance of my Fate reclaim'd What prejudice and private Ends ill us'd False zeal and like Religion ill excus'd Who stiff neck'd rather wou'd my Fate repeat Than by new measures be securely great No freedom of debate was left for you When all was mov'd and manag'd by a few Your leading M. J. s and W ton As if all wisdom were in them alone A House of Commons crumbled into three Slaves in effect and in appearance Free What ail'd the Pilot slept he at the head Or was your Judgment by your wills misled What evill spirits Influence did prevail That you who might at large securely Sail In sull Sea and from all dangers free Wou'd run upon that shelf that ruin'd me These sure and sad effects I well foresaw These reall ills which seeming good wou'd draw From these sad consequences to disswade I was sent forth and gladly I obey'd I told you then what now too true I find Where zeal flys out and duty leaves behind T is wisdoms shame and Policies defect For still like causes will have like Effect I sought by wondrous Truth the point to gain Urg'd many Reasons but urg'd all in Vain None were of force against the Good Old Cause Counsell was thrown away Fool that I was Where men with Law and Prophets wou'd not live To think a message from the Dead shou'd thrive Spight of my foresight and my dear bought Skill Cassandra I you faithless Pans are still Your boundless passion did no measures keep VVell might you break your Neck with such a leap Men may at Distance over about Kings And by your Influence move Earthly things But when those Bounds they wou'd Exceed and fly Too neer the Sun scorch'd they drop down and dy What an Occasion lost you to improve The Princes Favour and the Peoples Love This when considering Posterity Shall think upon they 'l hate your Memory And as once antient Rome they in their turn With you had never dy'd or ne're been Born Shou'd your Sucessors tread your steps they then Tho they were Gods like us shall dye as men Oh! may the next for sure a next will be Avoid the Rock that ruin'd you and me Deeply affected with a just Concern At your sad Fate self-preservation learn And merit by avoiding needless fears By moderat Councills and praise worthy cares A Monarchs blessing and Three Kingdoms Prayer Tom Thins Ghost IN dead of night when the pale Moon Had got to th' Nocturnall Noon Betwixt her Light and what was lent From twinkling Candle almost spent As I lay slumbering on my Bed I saw methought a man was dead Gravely he stalk't and stood and star'd While I lay trembling and was Scarr'd Dumb for a while at last I broke Silence and to the Phantosm spoke Art thou said I that man of Sin Or Ghost of Thomas late Squire T. He soon reply'd with Accents hollow In words conform to these that follow From the Tartarean shades below That neither Bounds nor bottom know Where a new life the Cursed gain Throw constant Torments Endles pain I by permission come to tell What Goverment there is in Hell Because I know thou wert a Tory To thee I chose t' impart my story For thou wil't Joyfully reveal What Whiggs that long for Common-weal Like Spartan Boyes wou'd still conceal Attend then and my Narrative Communicate to all alive I am the Soul of one of those That both the K and Law oppose And Itch ' with Conscientious Scurvey To turn the Kingdom topsey Turvey Rogues that presume themselves appointed To contradict the Lords Anointed Those that wou'd murder an Addressor And cut the Legs of true Successor And make him look in piteous Case As Withrington in Chivy Chase Nay cut his Throte and in his place Set Perking up of Extract base Who has no more pretence to Rule This Land than any other Fool But may make out I l'e Swear as soon A Title to the World i th' Moon I was I say of that Caball Till I was murder'd in the Mall You 've heard I know of that Barbarity Hatefull beyond all Bonds of Charity Proceed we then with our Relation Of Action in th' Infernal Nation Assist me steed of Phaebus Legion VVhilst I describe the dolefull Region One Monarch in that VVorld controuls VVith flameing Scepter tortur'd Souls And Captive tho he be in Chains Yet absolute Emperour he Reigns No Factions there disturb the State VVhich is preserv'd by steady fate Unalterable Laws they have VVhich the Almighty God-head gave And to their Prince ev'n on his Foes A strict Obedience does Impose That Prince is Lucifer whose power The Subject Ghosts adore Each hour VVho to advance their mighty King In Blasphemies his praises sing Devoutly swearing there 's no odds Betwix this Grandeur and the Gods These tho' they suffer 't is in Vain Amid'st their Torments to complain If he but nod from burning Throne There 's not a Soul that dares to groan For Hell admitts of no Petition To redress Grievance of condition Nor do Tumultuous Crowds appear VVith bold Remonstrances of Fear Nor Spirit Murmer at oppression Nor prate of right or wrong Succession Their King Immortall Oh! 'mong you That Charles the Second were so too I love him now and tho' a Devil Am much more honest grown and Civil For having ta'ne a Drachm of Styx I have forgot my VVhiggish Tricks Next to the Prince there are that stand Awfully waiting his Command Belzebub Moloch Ashteroth Baal And Dagon who before their fall Tho' not condemn'd t' Eternall Night VVhere Seraphins and sons of Light Those cursed Peers when e're he will If he intends great woe or Ill To sons of Earth he quickly can Summon into his Dark divan Not to give Counsell but to do VVhat his Dire Dictates Prompts him to You have like him one Noble Peer VVho wou'd do mighty Service there VVou'd he were there in stead of me To shew his Squinting Policy He 't is I mean that looks at once Like Cerberus from tipple Sconce But that his Eyes wou'd fascinate And give a destiny to Fate For he I fear wou'd break the Law By which this world is kept in awe Since it is here his chiefest Care To break all Laws that Penall are He wou'd go nigh ev'n in this station To make a new Association But if he did Oh!
d'st better far Neglect The Plots abroad and those at home Inspect Thou need'st not fear the Jesuits but the Leagues Of VVife with Courtier Islington Intreagues VVas it well known to each contented Sot VVhat don at home how Jacky was begot Hee 'd be more jealous of his VVife then th' Plot But of all Pates Cit has the softest one The better crys the VVife to graft upon But he by such dam'd dullness is undon VVhile on him Every Rascal puts a trick Care Curtis Baldwin and Seditious Dick Such Rogues as these do still suspicions give And make new Plots that no man can believe One makes him hope another makes him fear Just like four Masty Dogs upon one Bear VVho knows not which the true or false to call But honestly dull Soul believes them all These are the Knaves who make the Cits suspect Their Prince that he their safety does neglect VVhose only care Heaven knows is to protect These are the Villains who our Jarrs encrease Nor till they 're hang'd can we e're hope for Peace Each Cobler's Statesman-grown and the bold Rabble Convert each Ale-house-board to Council Table One Censures this another blames that fashion And thus they settle the Affairs o th' Nation On Votes and Councils are their Judgments past And in what form they please Affairs they cast Thus Colledg did but he was hang'd at last Iter Boreale AFter long practis'd Malice in the South Brutus the Peoples Ear the Peoples Mouth At length most prudently has Sally'd forth And cautiously retir'd to his North. His Poyson he has left behind in London By whose Infection Whigland's Chiefs are undon Charter lies bleeding Ecchoing Orphans crys Reach Heaven whilst the guilty Causer flies Whole Corporation suffers for Believing Sneaksby who but one Garret had to live in Yet had he had his Arbitrary Swing Wou'd all our Nobles to his Nine-pence bring Wou'd curtail Monarchs and by grand Debate Reduce Great Britain to an Hamburg-State For Eighty Two shou'd be as Forty Eight But since great Ends by Providence are cross'd And Jesuit-Whig Designs in Blanket's toss'd Since Jurors must no longer be forsworn Nor private Sence ' gainst Solemn Oath Suborn Since Oats Deposals are Immortaliz'd And Elliot still remains Uncircumcis'd Since Loyalty must take and All are for 't Since Pomfret Eloquence won't take at Court Since Ryots for the Publick-Weal can't be Secure without Invading Royalty And Legal Bearings up against the Power In Peoples Right force Demagogues to th' Tower Since all the Juice of Tony's Tap's quite spent Which suckled long both good old Cause and Trent For some who this way look are that way bent Since Bacon's Brazen Head fix'd on his Shoulders TIME WAS Can only say to Property Upholders Since Legal Monarchy must rule the Rost And care determin'd is to keep his post Since Envy Hatred Malice do small feats Party detected in all holy Cheats Thousands of Guineys can't have Influence On him who hath of Loyalty due sence Since neither Wapping Treats nor VVhigshead Clubs Assert the Right of Perkin or the Tubs Since truth and only truth must now prevail Maugre St. Tony's Tap or Stephens Flail And Brutus lately Londons Demagogue No Office has but where Men Disembogue 'T is time high time to quit that hated place VVhere nought but Loyal must dare shew its face So Fiends Associate VVizards still forsake Cajoll'd with hopes untill they come to stake Thus inmate Rats who first espy the flaw In Ruinous Buildings prudently widraw Neswells VVhig Babells sall parting seems to say Perish ye with your Cause so I be out oth'way THE MAD-MENS HOSPITAL OR Presbyterian Itch. I. OH happy Soil unhappily possess'd Your Natives now invade your Sacred peace And that Religion we all profess'd Must now by Exterpation succease Our Laws are broken Birthrights ta'en away Banish'd or Murder'd Innocents betray II. This Hell bred Change hath Reformation brought By bold Interpritation of Text VVhat was believ'd and our Forefathers taught By new dark Lanthorn Lights is now perplext New Government 's set up the Rabble see A way to Rule the Church and Monarchy III. Oh treble damn'd Rebbles to God and King Who first put Arms into the Round-Heads hands Taught them to know their Brutish strength who bring A right of Levelling to all Mens Lands Like Hounds unhunted left to their own Chase Seize all that cross their way Noble or Base VI. They love the King as School boys Masters love Let them do what they will How good a Man Correct them he 's a Tyrant none above If they admit then Govern them that can Break up the School A Common-Wealth their Cry's Learning hath Foold the World and taught us Lyes V. Thus in this wilfull and presuming Age Where Reasons Blinded with Opinion For currant Truth upheld by th' Peoples Rage They Spurn at Truth and true Religion Those Beast like Rights which greater Beasts perswade Are the false Opticks of their Cheating Trade VI. Poor Country Men the whole worlds hate or scorn Led by a creeping Will ih ' Wisp's false Fire Like him to Malice and to Mischiefs born Leads you to perish in a poyson'd Mire Pride made a Devil what is' t made thee so Malice So coupled both together go VII But tell me yet Madmen have Intervalls What end do you propose suppose your Plot Shou'd take effect that Pallaces and Halls The King the Duke Lords Papists and who not Shou'd in one Ruin fall what wou'd Succeed Cutting of Throats make one another Bleed VIII For the great King will not descend to reign You in his Members Crucify him here In time compleat when he will come again 'T will be to your Confusion and Fear Order Supports the World nothing can stand VVithout it Beasts have Order and Command IX These very Sects who now together joyn Will then divide and each their Claim advance This is the Truth I hold that Lordship 's Mine 'T is false 't is not 't is for the K. of France For when that one anothers Blood we draw 'T is time a third shou'd come to give us Law STATE CASES PUT TO Iack Presbyter JAck if you have one Grain of Sence That 's free from pride and Impudence Say something in your own Defence But Lye not VVhy dost thou make our Blood recoil VVith noise of Plots and Popish Guile VVhile you 're the Traytor all the while And Bygot VVhy dost thou brood upon the Plot To hatch the Mischiefs Room cou'd not And play th' old Game but we have caught Ye Napping VVhy did the little Dorset Eel To make the Brain sick Crowd Rebel Sad storys in the City tell And Wapping What did the western progress mean When a fine Duke did march between L. Gray and Tommy to be seen o th' Women How Country Protestants did run To Gaze upon a Royall Son God bless him or wee 're quite undone For Freemen What meant Ben Harri's Appeal So full of Loyalty and Zeal VVas it not written for
Kings From Vindicating Sectaries in Illegal things From encouraging Faction which Rebellion brings Libera nos From murmuring for sending the Parliament home From choosing Fanaticks to sit in their Room That the Actions of Forty may not be out-don Libera nos From Irish Massacres by Papists don From Seditious Cut Throats which thing is all one From murthering the Father and banishing the son Libera nos From shrouding all Villanies under the Cause From making us happy by giving Sword Laws From trampling o th' Mitre Crown with applause Libera nos From Hunting the King and abjuring his Race From Cleansers of Bungholes usurping his place From preachers in Tubs that are void of all Grace Libera nos From Vulcans Treasons late forg'd by the Fan From starving of Mice to be Parliament Man From his Copper face that out face all things can Libera nos From voting Lords useless and dangeroufly Ill From hanging of Bishops for dropping the Bill From letting Fanaticks have too much their Will Libera nos From purging the house to obstruct our free Choice From Resolving the King to oppose with one voice From such that at Mischief do daily Rejoyce Libera nos From all the Seditious that love not the King From such as a Civil war once more wou'd bring And Repenting with Colledge at last in a string Libera nos THE Last Will and Testament OF ANTHONY King of Poland MY Tap is run then Baxter tell me why Shou'd not the good the great Potapski die Grim death who lays us all upon our backs Instead of Sythe doth now advance his Ax. And I who all my Life in Broyls have spent Intend at last to make a fettlement Imprimis for my Soul tho' I had thought T o've left that thing I never minded out Some do advi e for fear of doing wrong To give it him to whom it doth belong But I who all mankind have cheated now Intend likewise to cheat the Devil too Therefore I leave my Soul unto my Son For he as Wisemen think as yet hath none Then for my Polish Crown that pretty thing Let Mon tak 't who longs to be a King His empty Head soft nature did design For such a Light and Airy Crown as mine With my Estate I 'le tell you how it stands Jack Ketch must have my Cloathes the K. my Lands Item I leave the damn'd Association To all the wise Disturbers of the Nation Not that I think they 'l gain their Ends thereby But that they may be hang'd as well as I. Armestrong in Murders and in Whoring skill'd Who twenty Bastards gets for one Man kill'd To thee I do bequeath my Brace of Whores Long kept to draw the Humours from my Sores For you they 'l serve as well as Silver Tap For VVomen give and sometimes cure a Clap. How d my partner in Captivity False to thy God and King but true to me To thee some heinous Legacy I 'de give But that I think thou hast not long to live Besides thou 'st Wickedness enough in store To serve thy self and Twenty Thousand more To thee young Gray I 'd some small Toy present For you with any thing can be Content Then take the Knife with which I cut my Corns T' will serve to pare and sharp your Lordships Horns That you may Rampant Mon push and gore Till he shall leave your house and change his Whore On top of Monument let my Head stand It self a Monument where first began The flame that has Endangered all the Land But first to Titus let my Fars be thrown For He 't is thought will shortly lose his own I leave Old Baxter my Invenom'd Teeth To Bite and Poyson all the Bishops with My Squinting Eyes let Ignoramus wear That they may this way look and that way swear Let the Citts take my Nose because 't is said That by the Nose I them have always led But for their Wives I nothing now can spare For all my Life time they have had their share Let not my Quarters stand on City Gate Least they new Sects and Factions do create For certainly the Presbyterian VVenches In dirt will fall to Idolize my Haunches But that I may to my old Friend be Civil Let some Witch make them Mummy for the Devil To good K. Charles I leave tho faith 't is pity A Poy son'd Nation and deluded City Seditious Clamours Murmurs Jealousies False Oathes sham storyes and Religious Lyes Ther 's one thing still which I had quite forgot To him I leave the Carcass of my Plot. In a Consumption the poor thing doth Lie And when I 'm gon 't will pine away and die Let Jenkings in a Tub my worth declare And let my Life be writ by Harry Care And if my Bowels in the Earth find Room Then let these Lines be writ upon my Tomb. ANEPITAPH upon his Bowels YE Mortal Whigs for death prepare For mighty Tapsky's Guts lie here Will his great Name keep sweet d'y ' think For certainly his Entrals Stink Alas 't is but a Foolish pride To outsin all Mankind beside When such Illustrious Garbage must Be mingled with the Common dust Palfe Nature that cou'd thus delude The Cheater of the Multitude That put his Thoughts upon the Wing And Egg'd 'em on to be a King See now to what an use she puts His Noble great and little Guts Tapski who was a Man of Wit Had guts for other uses fit Tho Fiddle strings they might not be Because he hated Harmony Yet for Black Puddings they were good Their Master did delight in Blood Of this they shou'd have drank their fill King Cyrus did not fare so ill Poor Guts cou'd this have been your hap Sh'rif Bethel might have got a Shap. But now at York his Guts must rumble Since you into a hole did Tumble A Codecil To the Former WILL Added in HOLLAND where he Dyed January 20th 1682. MOurn England Mourn Let not thy griefs be feign'd The Tap so long upon the Lees is Drain'd The cringing Atlas of the State and Church Is faln and left his proselites i th' Lurch Alas what will become o th' Reformation The Popish Plots and Blank Association Our Rights and Libertys and good old Cause Patch'd Juryes and th' Ignoramus Laws What will become o th' Saints in Tribulation If Tory Loyalty comes into Fashion The Salamanca Doctor must take Post If Tompson and Lestrange must rule the Rost And Monkey Care Gotham and Sniveling Dick Must from the Hague e'en follow to old Nick. In vain we strive to shun th' appointed Fate That on the Knave as well as Fool does Wait. Tho I said he have drawn Infectious Breath And liv'd this Sixty years in spight of Death Had I been Hang'd but half those years agon Less Treason had Ensu'd less Mischief don But as there is an Evil Genious Waits On private Men so there 's on publick States The universal Temper of Mankind That always in the Ditch will lead the Blind Of Sin
Loyal Poems AND SATYRS Upon the TIMES Since the beginning of the Salamanca Plot. Written by several Hands Collected by M. T. Absolom and Achitophel Plots true or false are necessary things To set up Common-Wealths and Ruin Kings LONDON Printed for John Smith Bookseller in Russel-Street near Covent-Garden 1685. To the most Illustrious most Honourable most Loyal THE LORDS and GENTLEMEN OF THE Loyal Club At the Dog in Drury-Lane Most Honourable and most Loyal THis Collection of LOYAL POEMS rescu'd from the Flames when our Illium was almost a second time on Fire present themselves an humble Offering at your Feet It is the Poets Loyalty and Religion asserting those Rights with their Pens which you have avouch'd to maintain with your Swords The Defence of which was the first Foundation of this Illustrious Society A most Noble Institution and destin'd to as glorious ends When Factious Caballs began to prevail and Rebellion under the disguise of Liberty began to invade on the Prerogative then was 't the Royal Party began to meet with generous Resolution and stand up as one Man for the Interest of the Crown and Government When Absolom had Conspir'd with Achitophel against the envy'd Life and Peaceful Reign of Injur'd David what less could engage in his Defence than the Princes and Chiefs of Israel This was that Royal Assembly which like you kept the Aspiring Rebells in awe and the Monarch against all their Conspiracies safe upon his Throne Where then can these Innocent Loyal Truths rather fly for Protection than to You the most Eminent Patrons of Truth and Loyalty I fear it will be counted Arogance in me to devote so mean a Trifle to the whole Body Politick the least Member of which is worthy of a far Richer Oblation but our whole Artillery being level'd against the Factions what Hercules Arm can guard me against the Multitude Against the Imps of Rebellion there is no Power to invoke but the Sons of Loyalty nor a spell against the Witchcraft of the Murmuring Cabals but the Musical Charms of the ROYAL CLVB That Club so nobly founded and so amicably carry'd on with unanimity of Heart and Voice for the long Life and Preservation of his Majesty and Loyal Brother in the Lawful Succession against all Opposers I dare not venture after the manner of Dedications to enter on Encomium or Launce out into the boundless praise of so many Illustrious and Eminent Heroes the meanest of whom is a Theme sufficient for the most Celebrated Pen but being threatned before on the like occasion for my Collection of Loyal Songs Dedicated to his R. Highness I only implore your gracious Protection and acceptance that under that Influence being guarded from all the Treacherous Assaults of my Enemies Whigs and Trimmers I may walk abroad in safety under the Character of Your Honours Most Obedient and Most Devoted Humble Servant Mat. Taubman THE Loyal Club. HAil Royal Synod Sons of Loyalty That Parliament whose Hearts and Tongues agree With one consent the Loyal Health goes round And Universal Harmony is found The Crowns Defence the Beauty of the Field The Peoples Safe-guard and the Prince's Shield The Pride o' th' Court the Glory of the Camp The Sterling Ore that bears the Royal Stamp That Touch-stone where no Counterfeit can pass But soon discovers all its secret Brass Trimmer and Whig like Copper fac'd with Tin Currant without and Counterfeit within The Bitt and Bridle of the Factious Bands That checks their stubborn Necks and binds their Hands The Rebels Dread and Fear that gives them Law The Rabbles Curb that keeps the Beast in awe Whilist every night You your bright beams display The Factions like gross Vapours waste away YOU like the Stars fix'd constant to your Sphere To CHARLES his Wain pay Homage all the year Whil'st Whig-Cabals like Exhalations drawn From all the poys'nous Treason-Sinks in Town From their aspiring Heights come tumbling down The grosser Bubbles mounting up too far Like Light'ning fall shot from an angry Star No Whig nor Trimmer can inhabit there They 're Exhalations cannot reach Your Sphere Those Wills i' th' Wisp that lead Men from the Road To see a Sun more bright revile their God The Sun which gave them Being they dis-own And fall to Earth who cannot mount his Throne When e're that Fiery-Comet does appear Within the Center of our Hemisphere The Fate-portending Tail does still pronounce The fall of Kingdoms and the date of Crowns That Monstrous Tyrant with his Gorgon face VVhose looks are Death this late had been our Case Had not the LOYAL CLUB retriev'd our Fate And stood the Atlas of the Throne and State That Throne Heaven guard and HIM that sits thereon And YOU next Heaven the Pillars of that Throne May Loyalty with Friendship link for ever No Tyrants force that Gordian Knot dissever May never Discord in this CLUB be found But Ecchoing Huzza's from th' Skies rebound And ev'ry Glass with Caesar's Health be crown'd The CONTENTS THE Poets Address to the King 1 The Excellency of Monarchy a Panegyrick 4 On his Majesties Recovery at Winsor 7 The Succession 10 A Paradox against Liberty Writen by the Lords during their Imprisonment in the Tower 13 The last Speech of Sr. Edmundbury Godfrye's Ghost 21 On the Death of the Protestant Joyner 24 Innocence Vnveil'd or a Poem on the Acquittal of the Lord Chief Justice Scrogs 28 Advice to the Painter's Adviser 30 The Hypocritical Christian or the Conventicling Citizen 34 On the Loyal Apprentices Feast 40 On old Doctor Wild's new Poem to his old Friend upon the new Parliament 44 Scanda Proof or an Heroick Poem on the Renowned Champions of the good old Cause Impudent Dick Janeway and the rest of the Factious Tribe 48 Fitz Harris his Farwell to the World or a Traytors Just Reward 52 The Meal Tubb Plot. 55 A Dialogue between the Ghosts of the two last Parliaments at their Interview Fuimur Troes Westminster Ghost's Advice 57 Nitimur in Vetitum Oxford Ghost 60 Westminster Ghost 61 Tom Think Ghost 74 Sejanus or the Popular Favourite 70 The Whig Caball 75 The Presbyterian Club. 77 The true Presbyterian without Disguise 80 The Dissenter 87 The Sollicitous Citizen 90 Iter Boreale 94 The Mad-mens Hospital or Presbyterian Itch 96 State Cases put to Jack Presbyter 99 The Geneva Litany 102 The Norwich Litany 105 The Loyall Litany 108 The last will and Testament of Anthony King of Poland 111 A Codecil to the Former Will 115 Shaftsburys farewell or the Association 120 The Recovery 123 On the Kings Deliverance at Newmarket 127 THE Poets Address TO THE KING THO Scribling Factions are so sawcy grown To dart curst Libels at your Sacred Throne To strive to pre-depose your Royal Heirs And seek your Life who frankly gave them theirs Yet Mighty Sir the Poets are your own Their Lives and Pens for Fortunes they have none Reason and Wit are faithful to their Prince Nay he that Writes against you can't Write
And every Parson Dr. Crape he 'l call Like Lad of late at Merchant Taylors Hall Whose sneaking looks his Principles betray'd It was a sly starv'd Whig in Masquerade A stingy perjur'd faithless Renegade The Godly Puppet came he said to see And know the Humour of the Company But the Glut'nous Ass he was so nesty Hew'd down the Walls of the Ven'son Pasty To come to 's rost Alas the Tarts and Pyes To 's Ostrich-stomack fell a Sacrifice His Appetite was keen for all 's pretences He pleas'd his Eye and Banqu'tted his Senses Then all the generous Guests traduces With sturring dirty pit'ful abuses Because they drank a Loyal Health or two He calls them Popish Torish drunken Crew A parcel of mean sordid Lads there were Who he was certain near eat Buck before For such abuses let the Lad beware And so let pimping Whiggish Harry Care Who 's Tugging daily to Promote the Cause To T'wart all Justice and make Null the Laws One Ignoramus-man says he at least Is able purchase all that were at Feast All their Estates in equal Ballance lai'd By one Whig-Jury-man's would be out-weigh'd Faith Harry's very generous he prates As tho he really knew all mens Estates Poor Mr. Christian's dead and th' Dukes Grace May give to Harry his old Stewards Place For he 's a Godly Honest Man and true And do's deserve his Place and Pill'ry too His too hot Zeal for Teckley Reformation In broaching Falshoods t' embroil the Nation His Venting this and contradicting that Shew him more Fool or Knave than pillar'd Nat The greatest Truths that published can be By Hodge are Story 's and damn'd Ribaldry If it with his and Gotham's disagree The Dukes young Daughter could not live 't was said 'T was so infirm a Child and since 't is dead The Serenading Crew for all their squeaking Were Thieves and did intend House-breaking Contriv'd with 's Grace a black and dismall War To batter him with Fiddles and Gitter The Instrument of Death a small Rechorder And Fiddle Stick and Pipe to do th' Murder The Chichester Informer took a Pot Too much of Brandy and his Brains were hot Broke Windows was a swearing drunken Sot H' had wild Freaks ungovernable Passions And dy'd like Bishop's Horse of the Fashions The fine Prelatic Jade will sure be Sainted Yes yes If Baxters book of Saint's reprinted Then Curtiss Care with mighty Polander Shall have their Names in Whiggish Calender And all who carry on the work o' th' Laird Shall have a good and bountifull Reward In this large Catalogue of Fools and Knaves Come Leaden Constables with Wooden Staves With Solemn Oaths they gravely can dispence They have a swinging well stretcht Conscience Who take up the Office out of mighty Zeal To support their Brethren o' th' Common Weal They to th' Brother-hood send holy Greetings Acquaint them how they 'l come molest th' Meetings Then hey the Godly Flock's dispers'd and gone And all like young Fledg'd Birds are quickly Flown The Preacher then with 's Congregation Give thanks for this great Preservation And Orders that th' Thanks of the House be sent To Godly Constable for 's good intent O! what will not Men do if this they dare To Affront Justice And themselves Forswear To Oblige a few and such a Faction please Who in this Government were ne're at ease Thus Officer though gravely Sworn Cologues Call's Hilton Fool and all th' Informers Rogues Though he hath Warrants with him that 's all one In spite of Laws he Executeth none 'T is strange such Meetings cannot silenc'd be Where Preacher bawls so much for Liberty And boldly talks of Subjects Property Oh! Horrid Insolence can Justice sleep Not see such Vermin into Corners creep Seduce poor Women and on Cit impose Draw him through Bogs of Error by the Nose Tell him of Plots and great Designs forsooth All which the Cred'lous Cit sucks in for Truth That sev'ral Jesuits were up and down In close Cabals for to enslave the Town It was not long ago at Lor'ners-Hall That Youngster did for Magna Charta Bawl And like Hugh Peters with new strange Alarms Bid 'm beware stand stifly to their Arms. To quit themselves like Men be Strong and Stout Secure their Persons and the Tories Rout. What lose the Priv'ledge of Chusing Shrieves Why North and Rich will prove two deadly Thieves They 'l rob you of your Jury's here at home And make you fall sad Victims unto Rome Then still oppose the Polls of Sir John More He hugs that Witch the Babylonic Whore Will ne're your Native Liberty's restore Be ready too your Charter to secure Who those damn'd Que-Warranto's can't endure You see that Oxford stoutly doth Defie Such Writs and will protect their Liberty Ne're trust their Charter in the Hands of King's who 'd bauk their Priv'ledge and clip their Wings Then stand it out Boyes still and still be Famous Like Oxford Towns-Men for old Ignoramus But I 'm inform'd of late that Whiggish Town Is Alter'd strangely and is Loyal grown An Impudent Resistance do's disown The Charter they 'l Resign for all the bawling Of Foolish Wright and self-conceited Pawling To oppose the Loyalists the Whigs don't dare The Youngsters laugh at dull Machine the Mayor Thus Honesty I hope in vogue may be And Cit may find his long lost Loyalty And baul no more for Bugbear Property May names of Parties and Distinctions cease May Faction fall and Loyalty increase To Stablish here an Universal Peace May Cit to Church devoutly go and Pray And ne're dispise a Godly-Homily Ne're Meet thus in Un-hallowed Barns and Sty's And blindly Offer their Fools Sacrifice Leave Cit those Synagogues and do Conform Into the Churches Breast at last Return Cast off for Shame the Factious Crew you know How they Prophanely impudent do grow An Am'rous Brother late so kind and tender Did there with Sister Publickly Engender The Preacher saw the Godly Act of Grace Saw the Lewd Couple Zealously Embrace He nodded Frown'd and gravely did Reprove Their wicked Satyr's way of Brutal Love Hence forth he 'l have a Smarter Rod in Pickle For such Debaucher's of 's dear Conventicle From such Vile Cells as from Contagion slee Such Deeds were never seen in Monast'ry Beleive it to th' Eternal shame of Meetings Nor in our Churches are such Carnal Greetings Then pri'thee Disaffected Cit Comply With Law and thou'lt enjoy thy Liberty Securely live beneath thy Vine at ease Thy Credit and thy Fortune will encrease Be Loyal and Defend the Kings Just Right Ne're read a Factious Pamphlet with delight Ne're seed on Horse flesh nor read vain Discourses 'Twixt Charing-Cross and your Wool-Church-Horses Ne're have a Vitious thought ' gainst Majesty But let all Treason Talkers silenc'd be Those Vermin that do girn at Monarchy Oppose their barking and let the World know You can be honest if you would be so The Comet that appear'd did sure portend That all your Factions here will have an end
And Zealous Conventiclers will amend On the Loyal Apprentices FEAST THe buisy Town grew still and Trait'rous Whigs Had lately chang'd their Looks Periwigs Lest Envy's Face behind and Sniv'ling Cant And Hectors turn'd with Loyalists to Rant I know not which it was whether They thought Some Conventicling Whores might there be brought By strict Devotion to meet a BROTHER Or whether 't was they Scented out some other Warm Zealous Game as Pasty Pudding-Pie Not Superstitious now if WHIG be by But somthing 't was made Godly'st Men o'th'Nation Back-slide a little now for Recreation And here 's a Penitential Psalm of One That tells his BRETHREN what Himself has done At LOTAL-FEAST in MERCHNT-TAYLORS-HALL ' Mongst Coxcomb-Lords and Worshippers of BAAL Whither Foolish KING and PRINCES too had sent Fat BVCKS in Sacrifice to IDOLS meant Yet ' mongst such Fools a WHIG can Eat and Drink Whilst H'one thing Speaks and doth another Think He in Deceit can mannage cunning slight Not so the Tories they must be downright And naturally are so to all Mens sight But Whigs with Reservation Speak and Write And far out-do the greatest Jesuite Well Fools we must be then the Whigs will have For their dear selves the other Sir-name Knave Then let them hav 't well give the Devil 's due Whig earns it better than Papist Turk or Jew 'T is but re-counting in PHANATICK strain The foulest Crimes and then they 're SAINT again A FALLEN STAR to day perhaps to morrow May shine like LVCIFER and from him borrow A brand or two of his Infernal LIGHT T'intoxicate poor people in the Night New Lights and new Discoveries they bring Dark-Lanthorn-Counsels how to ' buse the King Make every thing Ridiculous appear That pleases HIM or any LOYAL PEER The ROYAL FAM'LY's but a Popish Crew And Doctor Crape-Gowns are all Papists too A puny Pray'rs the best thing they can tell ye Whilest their Devotion 's fix'd upon their Belly Loyal ADDRESSES and ABHORRENCES Quoth Turn-Coat Whig are sottish Flatteries The KING delights in Parasites we see And none but Fools can in His Favour be Dissolving Parliaments deserves Damnation For keeping Publick Justice from the Nation And th' Godly Persecuted ' Lass 't is worse Than Tyranny or Arbitrary Force Popery is come already Where be we Brethren stand fast in Christian Liberty See how the Loval Beagles of the Town Flock from their Shops t' adore the Idol CROWN Those filly Curs that sometimes us'd to help 's And foll'w our keen Rebellious Bloud-hound Whelps They 're now declaring for the ROYAL CAUSE Think KINGLY BLOUD too Sacred for our Jaws Help now or never Baxter Curtis Care And all True Patriots of our Holy War The KING and COVRT can't be more odious made Strike now strike home or all our PLOT 's betraid Thus far the Whigs For here the True Sence lies Of all their Libels Rhithmes and Forgeries And yet they 're LOYAL still But ye must know 'T is with a Mental Reservation though As Brother Poet has at last confest Who if he 'd hid This Truth had spoil'd his Jest Ay we 've experienc'd well what LOYALTY Since Forty One his Brethren brood and he Are like to shew which makes us think and say Old Nick's as True and Loyal too as They. But YOU Brave Loyal YOVTHS that Fools Fops Are nick-nam'd by the Rebel-Rout Your shops Shall be Protected by the Sov'reign Charms Of CHARLES and YORK and their Victorious Arms With Heav'ns assistance win Your selves Renown Redeem the Credit of this Ancient Town Say LONDON'S ' PRENTICES have done the thing Joyn'd Zeal to GOD with Duty to the KING ON Old Doctor Wild's New POEM TO HIS Old Friend upon the New PARLIAMENT THus 't is to stand Condemn'd by rigorous Fate To the vile Plague of a Poetick Pate The Itch of Rhyming where it once does seize Becomes a more Incurable Disease Than Pox or Scurvey Harder 't is to rout WILD's Scribling humour than to Charm his Gout An Old Man's twice a Child I heard folks say But never more than when he would seem Gay And does with Jingling Hobby-horses play When sprightly Fancy's gone the doting Bungler Mounts the brisk Muse but proves an errant Fumble Gets only Puling Verse languid and thin Not to be call'd a Birth but Souterkin Sorry dull Puns and Nauseating Quibbles Worse than old Crab-i'th-wood or Belman Scribbles Just so Sir Limber-ham that scarce can crawl Will on his Venus and his Cupids call And drains Five hundred Pieces from his Purse To keep a Miss when more he wants a Nurse But tell me Reverend Songster was it fit Thy Doctorship should thus the Pulpit quit To Revel in such Babylonish Wit Thy very Friends when they thy Poem scan Say only He 's a Towardly old Man Though thou forgot'st thy Calling Age Degree This Subject sure should curb thy Levity To treat of PARLIAMENTS at such a rate In fulsom Metaphors of Billings-gate Before th' August Illustrious Senate come And straight turn up sans shame thy Aged Bum Deserves a Lash from the Black Rod at least To make th' Old Baby smart for the lewd Jest Amongst so many Olds as thou dost trace 'T is strange the Good Old Cause obtain'd no place Then Poor Dissenter bravely might Ascend Into a Pulpit from the Tables end And Hold forth Godly Sonnets to his Friend We all are Joy'd at present Face of Things And thank both Heav'ns kind Influence and the Kings ROMES Vultures nor the Gallick Cocks we fear Safe in our watchful Eagles Royal Care Yet love not to run mad and Dance the Hay As stung like thee With a Tarantula VVho e're thy greazie Tale of Pork does view Suspects thee for the By-blow of a Jew Thy Grandam when she burnt th' old Stock was cruel Not Bees but Wasps deserve to be made Fewel Good Housewives do not think her Method safe To Drive is better than to Burn by half But these Wild Sallies do too plainly show Thou dost but Cackle when thou thoughtst to Crow Treating of Richest Robes of State and Ermin Thou just like some Pot-Poets Cozen German Bethinks thee of th' own thred-bare Cloaths Vermin Then cry'st to Longlane with them-New put on Sweet Sir 't is timely thought of may 't be done But best make haste e're Ketches Wardrobe 's gone Thinkst thou VVILD as thou art such Language meet T' approach the Soveraign Legislative Seat Pardon Great Senate that his Phrensy drew Me to the Rudeness here of naming You. The haughtiest Subjects tremble when they come To your Just Barr and dread th' Impartial Doom Fair Copy of Heavens Policy the same Idaea that rules the Vniversal Frame VVhere Nobles as the Fixed Stars do shine In Honours Firmament And Rays Divine From Reverend Fathers of the Church are spread To strike both Schism and Superstition dead Next Sages of the Law as Planets trace Their Circuits to enliven in each place Those needful ACTS which here are fram'd and deal Distributive Justice for
no Foe but still she felt a wound The bleeding Dear thus trembling stands at bay But can't find where the close hid Archer lay As on the winding Banks and watery Maze Where fam'd Meander cuts her crooked ways The lost distracted Traveller doth gaze At last kind Fate or Providence doth bring The poor Despairing Soul unto the Spring So some kind Angel genius of this Isle VVhere peace alass with thee cou'd never smile Hath taught us now to make her flourish still Shew'n us the hidden source of all her Ill Reason the Plummet with the Line shall be Both stretch'd to Fathom and to measure thee Lead throw the Labyrinth of all thy tricks All the wild Mazes of thy Politicks THE Whig Caball TH' sullen night worn threadbare when I lay Expecting the Approach of Early Day Such Loyal thoughts did in my Bosom rage As drew my Curses on this Factious Age With tears I mourn'd our sinking Countrys Fate And shadow'd glory of the Royal State Till slumbering at the last a glimmering Light Methought was shown to my Mysterious Sight When I descry'd a Treasonous damn'd Caball Hells mounting Engines that wou'd sink us all And rise upon our King and Countrys fall Dark were their Looks and knowingly I saw Villains they were and such as fled the Law Printers and those who had abus'd the times Religion was their Cloak to hide their Crimes Envious as Eiends like Hells Divan they sate What wou'd Hell more to ruin Church and State So vile as these it never cou'd appear Had the great Whigland Lucifer been there When in an abrupt Voice I heard one Cry Rome's Idoll York shan't gorge our Liberty Rowz up my friends our Ruin's more then fear'd Their Bulls do roar so lowd we can't be heard With that he paus'd then said with much Distress What shall we do the Tyde of our Success Now seems to Ebb nor can we hope for less For even those will now believe no more Our shams who judg'd them Miracles before Interest 's our hook and Freedom is the Bait Bondage but nam'd you 'l see Rebellion Straight Each weak pretence deceives the Easy Crowd With them 't is Law what is by us allow'd But shallow are our Plots to searching Eyes They see what Mischeifs at the Bottom Lyes Our Sh'riffs and Juryes for their ends applause With Ignormaus Riots prop our Cause They doubt of peace from those that break the Laws There our Designes are Desp'rat and so crost Bold the Attempt must be to gain what 's lost Zealous Rebellion must secure us all We cannot fail while we pretend a Call With that like Fiends they Vanish'd and I woke Whilst all amaz'd and troubled thus I spoke O wretched Land how prov'd thy cureing vain Sign thy old wound is breaking out again The whole's Endanger'd by th' Infected part But Heav'n instruct our great Physitians Art There 's one way left to heal this desp'rat Wound Out off the Rotten for to save the Sound Were there no Cause for this now needful blow Religious peace then throwgh the Land wou'd Flow So Jehu Sion purg'd and faith did grow But let 's unite with pious Joy to sing Health to the best to Englands gracious King Blest may he bee his Queen and Royall Bed And bless great James whilst all their Foes ly Dead So we at last shall bruise the Serpents Head THE Presbyterian Club AS 'tother day Dick Harry Tom and I At th' Tavern sate in wine and mirth rais'd high As round the Boord the Chearful Brimmer went And Charles his health was drunk with one Consent The Duke of Tork's by Birthright next Ensu'd Confusion to all those who wou'd Exclude Thus went the Claret round till up the stairs The Drawer came laden with Stools and Chairs His Burthen thrice he did renew when I To satisfy my Curiosity Asking the Reason of his Task was told The Saints to night a Canventicle hold The Room was large well stor'd with Chairs Stools Pitty 't was to be fill'd anon with Fools We Torys big with Expectation wait As well to see 'em as to hear 'em prate When usher'd up in long procession came Baxter with many more too long to name Their looks their dress was such you wou'd have thought They really had practis'd what they taught VVith starch lawn Band and hats right gravely set Had you but seen 'em you had thought they 'd met There to set up a thorow Reformation VVhen 't was it seems only for Recreation Now round the Table all in Order sate Baxter at th' upper end as chief in State For Pride is to th' Elect as natural As to the Devil 't was before his fall Mean while the Brethren drink till warm with wine They all to Treasonable talk encline And in each glass the Kings Destruction vow The King nere more their Enemy than now Thus still the Zealous glass went round whom one VVith lift up hands and gogling Eyes begun I thought him by his Bawling Farringdon Half drunk to make a Godly speech and cry Oh Lord When will thou put an end to Tyranny When wilt thou free us from our Tyrants hands And settle on us all the Bishops Lands For tho Lawn Sleeves and Gowns are an offence We with the Churches Livings cou'd dispence Nay verily I think I cou'd submit To any thing but Popery to get The Diocess of Winchester I say I wou'd the Churches liveing were our prey Nay I pray dayly God wou'd make 'em so For I have little else with Prayer to do And tho the K. good Man be vainly lead i th' crooked path of Wickedness to tread 'T is Charity to wish the Tyrant Dead Wou'd he were mounting nay I wish he were Already crown'd in his Triumphant Chair That he from thence might see us act below Deeds that our once Lov'd Cromwell shall outdo Such deeds as even his Ghost shall fear to see While Satan trembles at our Tyranny Least coming thither we their Peace destroy And with intestin VVars his Relms annoy Least we by force shou'd their old Laws repeal And spight of Empire for a Common-weal Thus spake the Reverend Pimp with sober hum They as amazement had 'em all struct dumb Did silently applaud the speech whilst he As in Arrears did swallow Brimmers three And now the hour of ten drew nigh 't was time To part least staying prove a Godly crime Then being drunk for all of 'em were so B r himself cou'd not uprightly go Tho' he had much the odds of all the rest Who in 's sheeps Cloathing fed a greedy Beast Making the Scripture Prophecy prove good Which ne're till now was rightly understood Thus they and time it was the house Depart For I their Absence wish'd with all my heart Thus do the Saints solace themselves and thus They act those Crimes which they abhor in us THE True Presbyterian Without Disguise A Presbyter is such a Monstrous thing That Loves Democrasy and hates a King For Royal Issue
Honour want VVhen 't is not truly called Militant And in plain truth as far as I can find He bears the self same Treasonable Mind As does the Jesuit for tho' they be Tongue Enemies in shew their Hearts agree And both professed foes alike consent Both to betray th' Anointed Innocent For tho their Manners differ yet they aim That either may the King or Kingdom maim The difference is this way understood One in Sedition 'tother deals in Blood Their Characters abridg'd if you will have Each seems a Saint yet either proves a Knave THE DISSENTER VVHat shall a gorious Nation be o're thrown By Troops of sneaking Rascals of our own Must Civil and Ecclesiastick Laws Once truckle more under the Good old Cause Shall these ungrateful Varlets think to Live Only to clip Royal Prerogative Shall all our Blood turn whey whilst we do see Men both affront and stab the Manarchy I 'm all inflam'd with a poetick Rage And will chastise the follies of the Age. Thoughts crow'd so fast upon me I must Write Till I 've display'd the gaudy Hypocrite He 's one that scarcely can be call'd a Man And yet 's a pious holy Christian He 's big with saving Faith he says yet He Has Not one spark of Common Charity ' Gainst Reason he perpetually VVhines Because it contradicts his black Designs He disesteems dull Morals for a Saint My well belov'd Brethren must not want Soul warming thoughts so warm that they did dwell First in the Womb then in the Breasts of Hell He flouts the Common Prayer yet the poor Fool Himself not them does turn to ridicule He hates a Form yet loves his dear Nonsence Nauseats his God with his Impertinence With Eyes turn'd up Mouth screw'd and Monkey Face He loudly Bawls to God for saving Grace With Meen so base and scurvy as if even His Apish postures only wou'd please Heaven And then his snivelling tone to the most High He does conclude his Curious Melody If things succeed not as his Humour Wou'd He strai't grows angry and he huffs his God And this as if God knew not what to do And that wou'd have been for thy Glory too Then musled in his Cloak Roger begins In 's Sermon to dawb forth Soul killing Sins Murder and theft and pride and Gluttony c. Which in their Lives none more Applauds then He Yet if you do survey the List with Care You 'l quickly find Rebellon is hid there And when hee 's prest to Dutys for some Hours He ne're puts in Obey the Higher Powers At Surplice and Lawn sleeves he takes offence Because they are the Types of Innocence For that he hates and with it Men of Sense The Reverend Prelate he still Villifies ' Cause they detect his cursed Villanies Hand them they Bark come let us pull them down For this same Mitre does support the Crown They 'r the Kings truest friends yet thought it good To drown his Kingdom in a Sea of Blood They the Kings Person wou'd protect they said Yes yes forsooth by Cutting off his Head And this they did inspir'd by Zeal alone To fasten Christ in his Triumphant Throne As if Damn'd Lyes false Oathes and Base Deceit Propt up his Throne and made him truly Great As if the Devil himself that acted them Did bring the Lustre to his Diadem Nay they go on yet with the same Intents By Molding to their Minds new Parliaments Some of the Great they by their whimseys guide To like their Treason and to ' steem their Pride In other things like Methods they pursue For ev'n the Sh'riffs must be Fanaticks too The Judges too they 'd to their Party gain Did they want either Honesty or Brain And when their wheedling Tricks do fail on these They poison soon some Country Justices Then had they once the dear Militia They 'd mount the Saddle and make Charles obey Thus first they 'd make him but a very Straw And then at last Controul and give him Law In fine they are the foes of Royal State Order is the great Object of their Hate Nor God nor Men these Furies seek to please They 'd bruise the Crown and Tear our Surplices They 'd undermine the Churches Harmony And ride a full Career to Popery They all Mankind except themselves Despise Chiefly the great for being Good and Wise Some Subtile have and some have Giddy Souls Some Fools some Knaves and some are Knaves and Fools These Vermin wou'd ev'n the best things Command And suck up all the Sweetness of the Land THE Sollicitous Citizen COntinuall Hubbub and the noise of PLOT Idle suspicions of he knows not what The Pope the Devil and the French three years Have Citt enslav'd to Jealousies and Fears Nor any prospect yet of Peace appears Bandy'd about 'twixt Credit and Despair Who 's safe he crys while such Designs there are And what is more peplexing can't tell where No tho' of late he to his side have got TITVS that Devil at cold scent of PLOT But the poor Cur at Oxford lost his fame Where he Ran Counter to 's eternal shame There the base Man Disloyal and Unjust A Second time prov'd Traytor to his Trust In vain from him Discoveries you hope Till he the whole confesses in a Rope But this to Citt no satisfaction gives He 's still uneasie and in Fear he lives Cryes there are others who can find out Plots And make perhaps as well as Dr. Oates Says wiser Heads than his the City Rule Or else I 'd said each Citt had been a Fool Say what you will we will secure our Home Be all in Readyness at Beat of Drum Who knows how soon the K. of France may come The Guards each night you 'd split to see the Farce Like Rattle Snakes with Bandaliers at A Ty'd to long Swords and drest in Greasy Buff Majestick Porters through the City Huff While Leader Fore-horse like the Pageant makes With formal strut and gaudy Tossell shakes In this brave Pomp they walk to Rendezvouze And there from Nine to Six securely bouze In damn'd Mundungus and as nasty Nantz They Curse the Pope and Huff the K. of France Does but poor VVhore about their Quarters budge Whom unkind Stars do force till Ten to Trudge Strait brustling Myrmidon cries who comes there Stand or I 'le Fire or stir a foot that dare Raises the Guards for such Alarms are Common Two hundred Men to seize on one poor Woman Why here so late cryes Leader on what score What are you I 'm a Woman you 're a Whore And fellow Buff-Coats a suspicious one For ought I know the VVhore of Babylon As you say Captain it may be Pope Joan. Such Fears as these our Mighty Dons of War Perform to shew the VVorld how much they dare But here dull Cit is out in 's Policy VVhile he on VVoman doth his Manhood try Credulous Ass there 's no more gross mistake Citizens Wives Beasts of their Husbands make Believe me Cit thou