Tide This floating Bark he now again would Steer Ah! treacherous Pilot and false Mariner The Kingdom 's yet scarce mended Hulk to save VVould launch again into the Purple wave Religious Bully that can cheat a Nation And make it perish working out Salvation Three Kingdoms he o'relooks soon can count The Tories all from Barwick to the Mount Sâ—â—â—â— Cities Shires to find what each afford Calls this Tantivy that Protesting Lord Sees what grave Noddle's for Caballing fit And who are Bromigens of Sense and VVit These are the faculties of Soul and Mind And here his Body as compleat you find From 's liquid Corps distills a fleeting gore And the whole Carcass makes one putrid Sore The better to Emit this flowing Sap His Belly carries still a Tap Through which black Treason all its dregs doth strain At once both Excrements of Guts and Brain But some will have his clear thin Body pass For a refin'd sort of Optick-glass Some make the polisht Fabrick of his Bone A glittering Skeleton of Specular Stone Old Ovid's Muse from hence may take her flights Her Argus only had an hundred sights This little Monstrous Corps is Eye all o're And the whole Body sees at every Pore Sees hatching Thought meer Embrio of a Plot Nay sees it oft before it be begot But to say truth his Opticks are but two Yet more than Ovid's Centinel can do With 100 Eyes that many things could view But this sees many hundred ways with two So quick so nimble and such rolling Eyes They watch each other like two cunning Spies Lest This declare for King and That for People For Cities Pyramid or Churches Steeple Poor turning winding weathercock of State Set on the doubtful Pinacle of Fate And now will turn again if not too late If well corrected for his Insolence The little Spaniel fawns upon his Prince But once escap'd the Ax or fatal Loops Straight to the dull unthinking Rabble stoops Pufft up with the vain blast of Vulgar breath Thus small State-Urchins hurry to their death So the kind Air with an officious blast Tosses poor Bubbles to the Clouds at last Dances the little Globe about the Skie Then breaks the glittering Ball it fann'd so high So Romes fam'd Darling once that govern'd all With the inconstant Rout did stand or fall Th' obliged Camp their General did Crown Then dragg'd his ragged Carcass thro' the Town Weak Fools that think they may securely flee On the loose wings of wild Inconstancy Or on its Metaphor the Mobile Disgusted by the Rout this cunning Wight Runs cringing to his injur'd Monarch straight Whose goodness is too ready to forgive Faulty alone in suffering Him to live Advanc'd to follow Mace and wear a Gown The Tony then saw Mutineers in Town But now they all True Protestants are grown Whilst he unto its Chambers can resort There 's nought alas of Popery at Court Clap the Prophetick Soul but in the Tow'r It straight Divines of Arbitrary Pow'r Now leaves the Rout and then as soon as able Leaves his good Prince just as he left the Rabble Who e're before saw such a little thing Contend with Monarch grapple with a King Of Oyants oâ—t we read that fought the Skies Cuâ—t back the Thunder of the Deities But ne're of Pigmy Lord that did the same A Lord that 's only fit to fight with Crane This buisy Noddle of the Factious Crew Not now distinguish'd by th' old northen blew The Badge of upstart Whigs must still be new With his Green Bob in this new Senate sits And round him all those Liv'ry-men of wits Some raze a name and some insert a clause Order their Bills themselves vote them Laws With awful care some Scriblers penning be A Speech for Sister Scotlands Liberty ' Gainst Lauderdale's unbounded Tyranny There a young Scribe is copying out a Cant Next morn for to be spoke in Parliament Up starts an Hector swears upon a Book ' Gad you shall see we 'll exclude the Duke This brings a Bill ' gainst Arbitrary Power And That will send a Member to the Tower One Votes him to be Censur'd on his Knees This cries Discharge That Let him pay his Fees And in the little Club you fairly see Of that great Senate an Epitomee But now the mouth of this Young Rump is gone The dissolv'd Members scatter in the Town Poor Tony's now confin'd and like to write All that fierce Indignation can Indite His second Volume quickly will appear The Tower always made Him Scribler As below on some bright Meteor gaze Poor Panick Fools admire a little blaze Which once dropt down regardless we pass by As too vile object for our scornful Eye The gazing Croud thus him in Lustre view Caress admire and adore him too But once Eclips'd or shaded in a Cloud Away runs all the silly buzzing Croud All thy past shifts will serve thee now no more Or there is scarce another left in store The Tempter his old Sorc'ress doth forsake VVhen once h' hath brought the wither'd Hag to Stake When the glib changing Monster once was ta'ne And fetter'd in the cunning Shepherds chain VVith all his wiles he never could escape Tho' chang'd to Fish to Dragon and to Ape And every minute put on other shape Our sad distracted Albion gazing round She saw no Foe but still she felt a wound The bleeding Deer thus trembling stands at Bay But can't find where the close hid Archer lay As on the winding Banks and watry Maze VVhere fam'd Meander cuts his crooked ways The lost confounded Traveller doth gaze At last kind Fate or Providence doth bring The poor despairing Soul unto the Spring So some kind Angel Genius to this Isle VVhere peace alas with thee could never smile Hath taught us now to make her flourish still Shewn us the hidden Source of all her Ill. Reason the Plummet Wit the Line shall be Both stretcht to fathom and to measure thee Lead through the Labyrinth of all thy Tricks All the wild Mazes of thy Politicks A Canto upon the Miraculous Cure of the K's Evil perform'd by the D. of M. in 80. AS Popish Farriers use t' imploy In their own Trade the good St. Loy The Saint to whom they have Recourse As to Heavens Master of the Horse To him they loudly cry for Mercy On Ragged Colts that have the Farcy For For Hackneys Gall'd to him they Pray And Drink dead Drunk upon his day So to his Grace of M Trots A Filly Fole that had the Bots For still she knew and 't was no News He kept the Mares though not the Muse But had you seen the Skittish Jade You would have thought her Drunk or Mad For at first dash his Hand she seiz'd Much was th' Ambitious Heroe pleas'd So sweetly did Don Quixot Grin When the Maid Marrian of the Inn He thought was some Enchanted Queen Askt his Dead-doing Hand to Kiss But what White Devil danc'd in this Some Fly some Rat or Great
terms as these Countreys o'regrown with Beasts of Rapine be Ty'd to destroy the common Enemy And bound by Charter yearly to afford So many Fox or Wolf-skins to the Lord. London once bounded in Walls is now boundless Grown from a City to a Wilderness More and worse Vermin lurk in 't's Holes and Dens Than Wolves in Tory-land or Frogs in Fens If they renew their Charter may they pay A Rebels head for Quit-Rent every day And a Whores Liver till the Town be found Honest and like the Loyal Countrey sound Now we have done we have not done what 's there See how the Mutinous Women appear Nip Insurrections in the bud Drums beat A parl and let us with the Females treat What would the good wives have Forbear slaughter Then quoth the Amazons we 'l keep our Charter And thus pleads first a Mouse trap makers Wife Before we 'l loose our Honour we 'l lose Life Honour than Food or Rayment priz'd more high For It we 'l live and for It we 'll die Farewel Charter Farewel Gentility Next comes a bouncing Butchers Wife i' th' Van With a Cow-killing Pole ax in her Hand D'y ' think we 'l lose our Charter and be stil'd Fro As Fish-women be in Bore-land and well so Master Punch kills an Ox and Twenty Sheep Each week i' th' year and I the Stall do keep Shall all this Blood besides a Free-mans Wise Now loose it's Honour by my Butchers Life For our Noble Charter we will stand and fall For if we loose our Arms we then loose all Then spoke a Chandlers wife with Ale-stufft-Lungs As big as Tun foaming at all her Bungs D' ye think I 'le sit at Bar all day for th' Fees I get by Porter's penny Bread and Cheese And see the Slaves like Clowns in Sussex come And cry Dame where is your Husband at home Shall double Drink place to feeling so give Shall 't be Madam Creswel and not Mis Keeling Quoth Mistress Fough 't would be a stinking life If I were not Master Gold finders Wife If farewel Charter then farewel to all The good Nobility of Pin-makers Hall Stand to your Arms both Life and Limb shall go To save our Honour and our Charter too A Reverend Matron in whose Loyal face Was every touch of Modesty and Grace Hearing the Grievances ventur'd the Crowd And thus she spake and thus their Ears they bow'd ' Dear Sisters of the Livery appease ' The boistrous bellows of your Passions cease ' You know that oftentimes untimely fears ' Unform the Men and them transform to Hares ' And Jealousie 's our Sexes cursed Spell ' Transforms us Angels to the Hags of Hell The last old Charter which you so deplore Was granted to us in the days of Yore And many an odd thing was in 't 't was done When th' Land with Popery was over-run And now by Law 't is so repugnant found That th' Law it self is in that Charter drown'd But there 's another in the Mint for You According to your hearts desire New New Not after the old Superstitious Fashion But New according to the Reformation For we that were but Mistresses before Shall now be Masters Lords and something more Moreover 't is provided all the Geese In London shall have two Ganders apiece Double man'd And if that be not satis You shall have your Boys on Sundays Gratis This said they shout and made the Welkin ring Cry'd Damn th' old Charter and God save the King A Character of London-Village By a Countrey Poet. A Village Monstrous 'T is a mighty Beast Behemoth or Leviathan at least Or like some Wilderness or vast Meander Where to find Friends one long enough may wander The Towring Chimneys like a Forrest show At whose low Branches do Balconies grow When I came there at first I gazed round And thought my self upon Inchanted Ground Or else that I in Rapture being hurl'd Was lately Dead and this was th' other World But was surpriz'd with Doubts and could not tell Which of the two 't was whether Heav'n or Hell The Noise and Shows my Eyes and Ears invade By Coaches Cryes and Glitt'ring Gallants made My Reason was convinced in a Trice That it was neither but Fools Paradiâ—e Ladies I saw not Handsom one in ten Great store of Knights and some few Gentlemen Fine Fellows Flanting up and down the Streets Where Fop and Flutter each the other Greets Each Mimick Posture does an Ape present While Humble-servant ends the Complement For Garb and Colour there 's no certain Rule Here is your Red your Blew your Yellow-Fool Most of these Gallants seem to view Refin'd The Out-side wondrous Gay but poorly Lin'd I saw some of them in the Play-house-Pit Where they three hours in Conversation sit Laugh and talk Loud but scarce a grain of Wit The Ladies to ensnare will something say Tending to show the Brisk Gallants their way But scorn as much to prattle sence as They. Here comes a Hero cover'd close from Air By Porters born in a Silk-Curtain'd-Chair Whose Sire in honest Russet Trail'd a plow And with stout Flayl conquer'd the haughty mow Next after him is by six Horses drawn A piece of Logwood in a Coach alone Looking like Scanderbeg on ev'ry one Who soon a whispering Baud softly invites To a new Suburb Miss and there he lights But at some little distance from the place Handsom he seems all cover'd o'er with Lace That nearer shews an old and ugly Face There goes a Brisk Young Lass in a gay Dress Here an Old Drone in Youthful Gawdyness Strange Miracles of Nature here are plac'd Ill-Favour'd Wenches Cracks some Fair are chaste The Temp'rate Sick Great Drinkers live in Health Here Usurers have Wit and Poets Wealth The Coffe-House the Rendezvous of Wits Is a Compound of Gentlemen and Cits And not all wise or else their Wits they smother They sit as if Afraid of one another So Pick-pocket when deeper Lister's by Budging aloof disowns the Mystery In comes a Cockt-up Bully Looking big With Deep-fring'd Elbow-Gloves and Ruffl'd Wig He turns his Back to th' Chimney with a Grace Singing and Staring in each Strangers Face Talks Mighty things his late Intrigues and then Sups off his Dish and out he struts agen And as I Rambled through this Quondam-City I look'd on Founding Pauls with Tears of pity But wiping off with an auspicious Smile Being like to rise the Glory of this Isle Village for now to you I tell me Tale You have produc'd a mountain from a dale The Country thought the fire had quite undone ye But now I find you have both Zeal and Money I cross'd the Thames much broader than the Brook Where I have bath'd and little Fishes took From Bear-Garden I Westminster mightview And tho their Outside lookt of different hue Yet therin each is so much Noise and Pother I scarce knew how to difference one from th' other But at the Court indeed I saw great Things The Noblest Subjects and
And really take all those of my Profession together through the whole Town no man has felt half the weight of his Heavy Swearing Hand as my Self have done For though Malice and Rapine gave him his daily Bread he has made it his restless and indefatigable study more particularly to ruine me then all mankind beside Nay not content with Prosecuting me for the above nam'd Dialogue and the rest of those Honest and Loyal Pamphlets He endeavoured to Blast my Reputation as much as he had done my Fortunes and that two by an imputation as Ridiculous as Impudent for he Maliciously offer d to Swear that I had Printed more Whig-Pamphlets than any other Person in Town so egregious a piece of Forgery that nothing but a Countenance as steeled as his own could ever have invented Readers I now beg your Pardon for Troubling you with nothing but Complaints and Crievances an unrelishing Subject for a Preface had not my long load of Sufferings extorted them from me and made them thus publick for the Vindication of my Loyalty a part where no Man is wounded without some Exclamation at the smart But that he hath not done this without the hopes of Reward is a plain Case for an Eminent Ignoramus-Jury-man lately Apprehended publickly presented him with 6â— l. 13 s. 4 d. in the space of a few Months besides divers private Guifts from the Party for his great Service done them However I should not have dwelt so long upon so Inconsiderable a Varlet as this had it not been to show how Capritious some mens Fortunes are that even so inconsiderable a Varlet should give so great a stroke towards any mans Ruine But Shame and Scorn have at last over-taken him For he is turn'd out of his Imployment with Disgrace and Despised by all Mankind which in a great measure hath eased the Pain of Your Humble Servant NAT. THOMPSON A Table of all the several Loyal Poems contained in this Book THe Waking Vision or Reality in a Fancy Page 1 The Deliquium or the Grievance of the Nation discoâ—er'd in a Dream 7 Sejanus or the Popular Favourite in his Solitude and Sufferings 15 A Canto upon the Miraculous cure of the King 's Evil performed by the late D. of M. 21 Tom Ross's Ghost to his Pupil he Duke of M. c. 24 The Oxford Alderman's Speech to the D. of M. at his entrance into that City â—â—out September 1680. 25 The Ghost of the late Parliament at Westminster to the Parliament to meet at Oxford 1681. 27 The Parliament Dissolv'd at Oxford March the 28 1681 29 A Panegyrick upon OATS 34 An Epithilamium upon the Marriage of Captain William Bedloe 38 Funeâ—al Tears upon the Death of Captain William Bedloe who dyed at Bristol 43 Anagram and Acrostick upon the Salamanca Dr. 44 The Convert Scot and Apostate English 45 A Postscript upon the Duke of York's return from Scotland 55 The Mad man's Hospital or a present Remedy to cure the Presbyterian Itch 57 Tony's Soliloquies c. 60 The Badger in the Fox trap or Satyr upon Satyr 62 The humble Wishes of a Loyal Subject 78 The Politicians Down-â—aâ—l or Potapsky's Arrival at the Netherlands and the Congratulation of the Protestant Joyner at their meeting 80 A Congratulation of the Protestant Joyner to Anthony K. of Poland upon his Arrival into the other World 87 The King of Poland's Ghâ—st or a Dialogue betwixt Pluto and Caâ—on upon his Reception 92 The Countrey Man's Complaint and Advice to the King 96 Advice to the Carver Written upon the Murder of the late William Lord Viscount Stafford 97 Shaftsbury's Farwâ—l â—r the new Association 113 Dagon's Fall or Sir Will. Waller turn'd out of Commission 117 A Dialoâ—ue between the Devil and the Ignoramus Dr. 120 Tyburn's Courteous Invitation to Titus Oates 123 The Reformation a Satyr 125 Advice to his late graceles Grace the D. of M. 128 The Solicitous Citizen or much ado about nothing 130 The Charter a Comical Satyr 134 A Character of London Village 156 True Loyalty in its Colours or a Survey of the Lauaable Address of the Young Men and Apprentices of the City of London to His Majesty 159 Loyalty Tryumphanâ— or a Poem on the numerous Loyal Addresses to His Majesty 162 The Club of Loyalists 164 The Dissenters truly describ'd 166 The Loyal Letany c 170 The Fanatick Rampaâ—t or a Poem on the an Election 174 Poor Robin's Dream or the Vision of Hell or a Dialâ—gue between the Ghost of Bedloe Tonge 176 A Dialogue between the Devil and the 〈◊〉 186 A Congratulatory Poem on Sir John Moore Knt. Mayor of the City of London 189 The Car-man's Poem or advice to a Nest of Scriblers 191 The last Will and Testament of Anth. K. of Poland 196 An Epitaph upon his Bowels 199 The Case is alter'd now or the Conversion of Anthony K. of Poland publish'd for satisfaction of the Sanctify'd Brethren 200 The K. of Poland's last Speech to his Country-men 202 Fitz-Harris's Farwel to the World or a Traytors just Reward 206 The last and truest Discovery of the Popish-Plot Discover'd by Rumsey West c. 207 Several Poems written by the Right Honourable Henry Lord Arundel of Warder and Count of the Sacred Roman Empire whilst Prisoner in the Tower 212 Majesty in misery or an Implorati n to the King of Kings written by His Majesty King Charles the first in his durance at Carisbrook-Castle 1648. 218 Interrogatories or a Dialogue between Whig Tory 221 A Poem on the Relief of Vienna 222 An exact Narrative of the Popish-Plot shewing all the cunning contrivances thereof 224 The Second Part to the same 228 The third Part written by a Lady of Quality 233 The fourth Part written by a Lady of Quality 237 The great Despair of the London whigs for the loss of their Charter 241 A Panegyrick to His Royal Highness James D. of York upon His Majesty's late Declaration c. 243 To His Roâ—al Highness the Duke of York 246 A Congratulatory Poem upon the happy Arrival of His Royal Highness James D. of York at London April the 8th 1682 249 To His Royal Highness upon his Arrival from Flanders 255 To His Royal Highness the Duke of York upon his Return to the Care and Management of the Navy of England 259 A Welcom to His Royal Highness into the City of London April the 20th 1682. 261 A Farewel to His Royal Highness the Duke of York on his Voyage to Scotland October 20th 1680. 263 The Dukes Welcom from Scotland to London 264 An Heroick Poem on her Highness the Lady Ann's Voyage into Scotland With a little Digression upon the Times 266 Islington Waters 270 Serenissimis Principibus Eboracensibus Albaniensibus Ducibus ter Maximis in Angliam Reducibus Congratulator 276 A Pindarique Ode upon the late Horrid and Damnable Whiggish Plot. 280 A Pindarique Ode upon His Majestics Review of His Forces at Putney-Heath 287 The Melancholly Complaint of Doctor Titus Oates
gave the Synod Approbations For to contrive Committees for Vexations And made a Conventicle Synod for three Nations Who gave Advice to Libel Church and State And none must mind the meaning till too late And the King's Friends made odious out of date Who was 't perswaded those turn'd out of Places Of great Authority to make strange faces And cry out Popery is now approaching Tho' they before conceived no such poaching Who was 't gave out that a thousand Watermen Had all conspir'd to Petition when The Parliament to Oxford were conven'd That they might sit at Westminster for them But ne're were heard of more from Smith nor Ben Who was 't endeavour'd all that preparations To guard the City Members in their stations To Oxford which look'd far more Arbitrary Than Forty One or absolute old Harry Who was the occasion of the late Obstruction Of the Adresses of the Cities loyal Production Was 't not the Canker of your Taps defluction Who school'd Fitz-Harris for two years together And tann'd his Conscience thick as Bullocks Leather And kept him for reserve to sweep the Court Of King and Queen and all that them support And now the Fool begins to stink for fear And is in danger quite as much as we are But makes such scruples to put by the Coller As if he meant to hang Sir William Waller Who hath influenc'd all this Perjury Which hath out-fac'd both Law and Loyalty Who is' t that holds the Plot still by the Tail As Sea-men tug to tack about their Sail And now by one small breeze of Justice breath Fear to be shipwraâ—'d to eternal Death Who animated the wild Votes of late To make themselves Comptrollers of the State And that their Votes without concurrence might Impeach the Crown or Peers in spight of Right Who was 't destroy'd both Monarchy and Law And would make it Lawful by a second blow Who cry'd these Visions and strange Revelations Tells us for Wars we must make Preparations Whilst we know no danger but our own Damnations Who made the Speech burnt by the Hangman's hand Which did both Threaten and the King Command In short Who was this Hellish Plot 's Contriver Who was it's Plaintiff-Engine who its Driver If it was You ingeniously confess 't And I 'le give you Absolution for the rest B. Nay Doctor now I find you 'l not abhor me For you your self makes my Confession for me Then nods and fleers and at this Motion grins These are but Title-pages of my Sins D. Nay for the rest we 'l ne'er stand to unhole They 'r only symptom-Infects in your soul Flaws of distinction between fair and foul B. Well since I find that all my hopes are past E're to shake off what I pull'd on so fast But that I at worst can hang my self at last Rather than live under this ill true notion After your kind Advice and friendly Caution I must confess tho' with a feign'd Devotion All these black Crimes which to my Charge you lay And many a thousand ten times worse than they Since I 'm imperfect to perform the rest He whisper'd then and I suppose confest Thus far degenerated from a Beast And then the Doctor with his bended Chin Canted some words and so absolv'd his sin And swore by the Holy Doom of his best Trade Badger thou art Papist now as good as e're was made By this Canonick Salamanka Gown I give to thee my best Benediction B. The Badger then began to frisk and squail As a Cow that 's stung with Hornets in the Tail Thou Popish Dog had I but power to rally I 'de make thee know I hate all Christian Folly But in the interval to prevent new Broils Aurora rose and all the Sequel spoils Whose splendrous looks with Phoebus in the Rear Drives all Malignants to a darker Sphere Their Conscience then with fear began to crack The Doctor hoal'd with the Badger at his back The Humble Wishes of a Loyal Subject MAY Blood of Innocents no more Disgrace The Stuarts Name nor fly in Charles's Face Let Tyrants wear those Stains whose due they are Whilst High Born Kings the Rod of Justice bear May proud Rebellious Faction tumble down And haughty Freedom truckle to the Crown May stubborn Peers Pimps to a Common-weal Maugre all Ignoramus Juries feel The Keen-edg'd Ax May Shute and Pilkington And Cornish take the Law of Abbington May Bethel and such Citt Sh'risss understand The jerk of their own Hireling Ketch's Hand May Ward Rewarded be by Them he serves On the Triangle Tree as He deserves May Moore ne're cease to stand up for the Crown ' Gainst the Presumptuous Rabble of the Town May Ignoramus never more present It self in Court until a Parliament Decide the Cause how Treason justify'd May be by Ignoramus thus deny'd May Knaves be Banish'd from Your Sacred Court And thither none but Honest Men resort May subtile Two-fac'd Lawyers Chat no more Whether Succession be of Right or Power May YORK return Your Senators to Face And justify his High-born Princely Race May Godsrey's Murderers appear on Stage To Pin the Scene of this Tumultuous Age May Hill and Green ne're cease in Heav'n to pray Till we behold that happy welcom Day May all that wish for Change of Government To pull down KING to set up Parliament Like Noll and Bradshaw Scot and Peters be Rewarded for their Wicked Policy May pure Rogue Three Names end his Aged days In Hempen String to his Eternal Praise And Hang by Quarters o're the City Gates With Head on Tower for his noble Feats Whilst his own Zealous Bigots passing by Behold their Demi god extol'd to th'Sky May the Great Name of STVART now become Mirour and Terrour to all Christendom Under the Name of CHARLES may Charlémaine Be couch'd for Power for Virtue Charlébone The Polititian's Downfall Or Potapski's Arrival at the Netherlands And the Congratulation of the Protestant Joyner at their Meeting Flectere si nequeo Superos Acheronta movebo Virg. IS Tapski Dead Why then the States-man ly'd Who wou'd Immortal be and Deify'd Strange Pride th' exalted Lucifer is hurl'd By strong Impulse of Fate from th' Belgic World The Burgo-master's baâ—â—â—'d in 's intent Descends from Watry t' a Fiery Element But stay could his Vast Soul retire from hence And quit the ruins of decayed sence Without some Prodigy in Nature shown No swinging Thunder-bolt from Heaven thrown No dismal Harbingers of Fate come down Sure Nature slept when Fate did strike the blow No Earth-quakes no Convulsion-Fits below No Star or fiery Comet in the Sky To Usher in this Mans Mortality 'T is strange that thus in Bed he took his Nap Could all the Putrid Excrements o' th' Tap Support the hollow Cask no longer here Was 't so infirm the Lees it could not bear Bless me thus free from both th' extreams From Tower-Hill Sledge and Smithfield Flames Serenely did he moulder into Dust And Monsieur Ketch he disappointed most His buisie
short a stay Ungrateful Countrey Barbarous Holland Shoar Cou'd the Battavian Climate do no more Her Shaftsbury's dear Life no longer save What a Republick Air and yet so quick a Oh! all ye scatter'd Sons of Titan weep This dismal day with solemn Mournings keep Like Isral's Molten-Calf your Medals burn And into Tears your Great Letemur turn Oh! wail in Dust to think how Fates dire frown Has thrown your dear Herculean Column down Oh Charon waft thy Load of Honour o'er And land Him safely on the Stygian Shoar At His Approach Fames loudest Trumpet call Cromwel Cook Ireton Bradshaw Hewson all From all the Courts below each well pleas'd All the Republick Legions numerous Host Swarm thick to see your Mighty Heroe land Crowd up the Shoar and blacken all the Strand And what'ere Chance on Earth or Pow'rs accurst Broke all your Bonds your Holy Leagues all burst This Union of the Saints no Storm shall sever This Last ASSOCIATION holds for ever Dagon's Fall Or Sir William Waller turn'd out of Commission GOod GOD what means this sudden Alteration The Fop that has so long disturb'd the Nation By 's Pride and Pomp and Pow'r is now Turn'd out And hardly pity'd by the silly Rout. He was as stout and lofty as old Hector Usurp'd the Power of our damn'd Protector As Fierce and Cruel as a Tyger's whelp He wanted neither strength nor art nor help To do and undo he was grown so great That the Creation was amaz'd to see 't He had his Coach and Horses Footmen too And into th' City rode to make a shew But little thought when drawn by Whitaker His fatal downfal it had been so near To put a Sword into a Madmans hand It may make Bloody Work within the Land Papists and Protestants were all alike Both sent to lodge with Church and thin-jaw'd Dyke No Day scarce pass'd without some mischief done Into all Companies the Fool did run The Goaler sure gave him a snack of Fees For Prisoners flock'd even like a Swarm of Bees Here Ten were sent him for a Popish Plot There Two more to please a Buggering Sot Then a New Plot is feign'd and more secur'd ' Uds flesh my Friends this cannot be endur'd Printers Apprentices and many more In all I do believe near twice two score They all are Plotters yet by Jove not one Can tell you what was said or what was done The Gate-house is become a Babel now Confusions came upon us none knew how But he that wrought the Mischief now is found 'T will puzzle any man to prove him sound He 's rotten at the Heart I 'll lay my Life No wonder he begot us all this Strife Well now the Cause is gone the effect will cease I hope we shall enjoy our former Peace This Leaven leaven'd the whole Lump And made us fear another sawcy Rump He study'd out new Plots and for what ends Only to please his Presbyterian Friends Ah but my Friend thou thy last Dice hast thrown For which the Presbyters begin to groan Thy buisie active Soul I do not jest Had lately sent it a Quietus est And that which doth thy Grief and Sorrow double Thou art not Rich for all thy needless trouble Soul take thine ease thou very well mai'st sing For thou hast got a Writ of ease from th' King Thou hast much Goods laid up for many years Say that and I will give thee both my Eâ—â—s Leave but the Factious out go through the City Thou wilt not find a Man enclin'd to pity Hang him cries one he was a buisie Knave He shew'd no Mercy nor he none shall have Mischief was all his aim and his design When he brought Hickey to a glass of Wine The mischief which so eagerly he sought For others he himself too dearly bought But I am almost weary of my Rhimes For I consider these are Trayterous Times Had but this buisie Fool his late Commission This wou'd have cost me a devout Submission I had been surely sent to Goal for Treason As Thompson was and had a greater Reason But God be thanked curst-Cows have short Horns He must and shall endure our Flouts and Scorns We may go boldly on and fear no fall No painted Staff will answer at his Call Now he is down down with him now 's the Season For if he rise he 'l Goal us all for TREASON A Dialogue betwixt the Devil and the Ignoramus Salamanca Doctor Devil Bâ—hold from the Infernal Lake I 'm come To fright thy Soul to it's Eternal Doom To tell thee Villain that thy Reign 's expir'd And now be sure thou shalt no longer hir'd â—e by Me no nor any of the Damn'd To drench in Innocent Blood this mournful Land Hence then begone and do no more pursue Villanies Hell could ne'er act but by you Now Heaven stops my Power and I thy Hand And now I tell thee Doctor Thou art damn'd Doctor O Spectre spare a while my dreadful Doom Go back and tell the Damn'd I come I come Only let me compleat the Ills I 've begun Then Heaven farewel and unto You I come Devil The Blood o' th' Innocent aloud does cry Revenge Revenge on cursed Doctor Ti No more o' th' Innocent shall bleed nor die Doctor Well the time 's come the fatal day 's at hand That I for ever ever must be damn'd O curs'd Revenge what Mischiefs have I done Abjur'd the Father and blasphem'd the Son The Sacred Spirit of Truth at once have I Banish'd and that my vengeance I might buy I 've caus'd the best of Innocents to dye See where their Ghosts appear in Purple ray'd afresh Victims by Perjury alone betray'd See how they shake their Heads and bleed Their wounds gape wide in their new murder'd flesh And these most frightful Visions come cause I Th' bloody Villanous Murderer stand by 'T is true that I the cruel Murderer am And thousands more by Perjury to trepan I solemnly did vow and often swear And none t' escape from the Peasant to the Peer Nay Sacred Prelates Princes Queens and Kings Should have made up my Bloody Offerings Ten Thousand more of Innocents had dy'd ' Cause I King Queen and Duke had Sacrific'd Cities and Towns I 'd Fir'd if not withstood And quench'd the flames with Innocent Blood Let me but live in this world three years more This Island then shall swim in Christian gore I 'le subvert Governments and murder Kings Sow discord among Friends I 'le do such things Shall make the World believe there is not that Villanous thing I have not power to act I 'le make the World believe let me but stay That Light is Darkness and that Night is Day That I the Saviour of the Nation am And that CHRIST was of no avail to Man Then I the Sacred Gospels will destroy Swear they 'r but fictious Stories and a Lye Perswade them that the Bible's but a Farce No more to be esteem'd than is my A So I 'le improve the
the Best of KINGS These things I did observe and many more But Tyr'd with the Relation I 'll give o'er True Loyalty in its Colours Or a Survey of the Laudable Address of the young Men and Apprentices of the City of London to His MAJESTY NO Name because you can't write well a Fist Is a Good Hand that can write Loyalist Go on Brave Youths and let your Paper show What Love what Service to your King you ow. How well Now London must be Judge of Thee When in thy Sons we find such Loyalty What Though the Jesuits a brooding lye To hatch for us a Mortal Enemy Loyal Addresses shall like thunder kill The Poison-gathering Viper in the Shell And quickly make the Factious Gang leave off To Lace their Coffee with Seditious Stuff The Roul contains most Trades who Swear they 'l be One Man t' oppose their Princes Enemy Th' Ingenuous Pothecary makes up a Pill And Swears it knows both how to Salve and Kill The Keen edg'd Barber with his Razor votes Instead of Cutting Beards to Cut their Throats The Shooe-Maker protests he 'd rather choose To wind Cord for their Necks than for their Shooes The Cobler too wou'd meddle with the Fools And wou'd instead of Soles Translate their Souls The Nimble Taylor swears each Finger itches To cut their Coats more than to sow their Breeches The brisk Vpholsterer swears by his Feather Their Souls and Bodies he will Quilt together The Damming Vintner Vows next time to bring Confounded wine to them that hate his King The Greasy Butcher Swears by 's Oxe's Head That at one Blow he 'll strike Sedition Dead Then Cut it open Quarter it and Treat The Devil with a Dainty Dish of Meat The Cockt-up Haberdasher briskly debates For Brushing of their Coats instead of Hats The Artificial Surgeon fain would Box 'em And send them all to Hell with a Pox to ' em The Cook cries cram 'em in my Pot 's Belly And I will stew their Rump-Beef to a Jelly A Carpenter comes in with a few Cringes And fain wou'd have 'em Hang'd upon new Hinges Then a Hot Bell-Founder cryes out of Spite They dead my Trade let them be hang'd outright But the slye Broaker Vows he dos not dare Venter his Coyn on such deceitful Ware Next unto him comes the ruff Brick-layer And he 's for Building up the Common Prayer The Loyal Coach-man this Sentence Broaches I am for making Plotters draw my Coaches The Brazier is for Burning them to see What Mettle afterwards they 'l prove to be The Strong-Water-Man would be at Stilling Of their ill Humours not at Killing Then comes the Lawyer hatching of some Evil And fain would bring him into Bond with th' Devil But says the Attorney Let 'em make uds luds An Execution t' me of Body and Goods The Rare-loyal Weaver makes a pother To have 'em Kickt from th' one side to the other The Gold-smith likes 'em best for well he knows Such Mettle both for Gold and Silver goes They 'l take what stamp we please they are such Witches A Caesar's Head as well as Oliver's Breeches Last comes a Printer and sayes Let me Dye If I don't brand 'em to Eternity I will transfer to future Age their Plot And what Reward their cunning Coleman got I will Transprint King Charles his Death and bid The Children Weep for what their Fathers did Papists and Factious both shall go to Pot While the True Loyally Draws a better Lot Loyalty Triumphant Or a Poem on the Numerous Loyal Addresses to His MAJESTY ROuse up my Muse For how in such a Cause Canst thou be Lazy or admit a Pause Why do not Words flow faster then thy Ink Or forward Verse scarce give the leave to think Thy Pen in such a Cause should Pregnant be To Write thy Fellow-Subjects Loyalty Subjects that dare in spight of Faction show How much they to the best of Princes owe That dare in spight of all the Politick Crew Who would the People and their KING subdue Be truly Loyal Honest Just and Good Four things the Others never understood Or if they ever did have long forgot Since first Sedition in their Hearts took Root Their Leaders Soul as well as Eyes do squint And could we search the Heart the Devil 's in 't He seems in shew as Loyal as the best But a full Fury Lodges in his Breast Ambition that Curst Fiend that fain would Tread Once more upon his Royal Masters Head Nor are his Followers behind in Zeal T' advance the Good Old Cause and Common-weal Reading the Votes of Parliament I found The KING with honest Men encoâ—â—ast round Who for the Publick Good did Wisely Vote That He for Tangier should not have a Groat At His own Charge He must the War maintain Or Tangier might be Lost for He in vain Assistance sought from them unless He 'ed give In Pawn for it His own Prerogative And against Nature's Laws cease to Defend An only Brother and a faithful Friend He must Exclude Him from the English Crown That when Great York they once had tumbled down They might set up an Idol of their own Whom if they cannot manage to their wills And make him Authorise unheard of Ills They 'l without scruple hurle them head-long down And tearing from his Brows the totter'd Crown Each will be King and set it on his own Amongst five Hundred Men some few there were That durst for Loyalty and Truth declare That durst the King's Prerogative Maintain ' Gainst Mighty Matchivel and all his Train But once discover'd they like common Foes Or Spies upon the Actions of the House Are first made Kneel before the Bar and then Our Loyalists such Principles despise Are still contriving how their King may rise How they may make Him Powerful and Great And in full Splendour keep his Royal Seat Still acting what their chearful words express Whilst each of them performs a whole Address Oh! may they still persist in doing well Till there be no Tongue left their Deeds to tell That they who did in This their King regard May in the other world meet their Reward The Club of Royalists COme Ganemede and fill each Glass with Wine Let each Muse Drink her share then fill up mine I with the Nine will Revel all this night Till Charles his Health bring back the Morning Light But hold a little Whither am I gone What need I run so far as Helicon Whilst Riding on each Beam the Sun doth bear As Loyal Drinkers as the Muses are For they I fear have caught th' infection too Since their own Sons bravely themselves undo For one who formerly stood Candidate For Wit and Sense with Men of highest Rate Apostatizes from his former Acts And from his own Cambyses Fame detracts No more in Verse his Mighty Talent shows But Libels Princes with Malitious Prose This Man in Cornhill if you chance to meet Or near the Middle of Threadneedle-street Know 't is to pay his Homage
thousand more To thee young G y I 'll some small Toy present For you with any thing may be content Then take the Knife with which I cut my Corns 'T will serve to pare and sharp your Lordsh Horns That you may rampant M 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 endanger'd all the Land But first to Titus let my Ears be thrown For he 't is thought will shortly have his own I leave old Baxter my invenom'd Teeth To bite and poison all the Bishops with Item I leave my Tongue to wise Lord N To help him bring his what-de-call-ums forth 'T will make his Lordship utter Treason clear And he in time may speak like Noble Peer My Squinting Eyes let Ignoramus wear That they may this way look and that way swear Let the Cits take my Nose because 't is sed That by the Nose I them have always led But for their Wives I nothing now can spare For all my Live's time they have had their share Let not my Quarters stand on City Gate Lest they new Sects and â—actions do create For certainly the Presbyterian Wenches 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 Dev. To good King Charles I leave though faith 't is pity A pois'ned Nation and deluded City Seditions Clamours Murmures Jealousies False Oaths Sham-Stories and Religious Lies There '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 gone t will pine away and die Let Jenkins 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 their Tomb. An Epitaph upon his Bowels YE Mortal Whigs for Death prepare For mighty Tapski's Guts lie here Will his great Name keep sweet d'y ' think For certainly his Intrals stink Alas 't is but a foolish pride To out-sin all mankind beside When such Illustrious Garbage must Be mingled with the Common dust False Nature That could thus delude The Cheater of the Multitude That put his Toughts upon the Wing And egg'd him 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 Though 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 should have drank their fill King Cyrus did not fare so ill Poor Guts could this have been your hap Sheriff Bethel might have got a snap But now at York his Guts must rumble Since you into a hole did tumble The Case is Alter'd now Or the Conversion of Anthony King of Poland published for satisfaction of the Sanctified Brethren EV'n as a Lyon with his Paws up-rear'd As he would tear in pieces all the Herd So of late days you Whigs as Rampant were An honest Tory scarce to speak did dare Nay it was almost an offensive thing The Bell-man scarce dar'd cry God save the King Thou my dear Titus and the Popish Plot Did'st fire my Zeal and make my Head so hot That then I whisper'd loud unto the Nation Now now 's the Nick of Time for Reformation You hufft and hector'd at a mighty rate When Parliaments of your own Mettle sate As if you had o're-grown the King and Laws And were beginning a New Good Old Cause But Remedy in Season did appear And stop't the Fury of your hot Carrear Thus for a while I danc'd to my own Pipe Till I was grown Association ripe But then Addresses from each County came And Loyalty did soon put out the Flame Then was the time that Tyburn claim'd his due But had it not for want of such as You Yet it had some small satisfaction giv'n By the deserved Death of Traitor Stephen Cabals and Factious Clubs so rife were grown And old Rebellious Seed so thick were â—own I hop'd e'er this the day would be my own In Coffe Houses you did domineer Aud pratled Treason without Wit or Fear Reason and Loyalty you over-rul'd And settled Nations whilst your Coffee cool'd The point you argued with a surly Face And he that did not yield and give you Place Was term'd by you a Tory void of Grace One House one Town one Kingdom scarce could hold Tory and Whig Sir Whig was grown so bold For this Recital Sirs pray do not blame us We ne'er baulk't Justice by our Ignoramus No no you meant no Harm I oft was told No more did your Rebelling Sires of old Thus for a while with Factious Rage you burn'd But Heav'n be thank'd the Scales at last are turn'd The Wheel at length is mov'd a little round And its worst Pieces lowest to the Ground The State has found a way to cool our Feavors Quench our new Lights and curb our strong Endeavours And we are taught Complyance with more ease To What and When and how the King shall please We to your Private Meetings now can come And seize your Holder forth and send you home Meet You at Guild-hall or elsewhere and then Help You make Choice of Loyal Honest Men. The Memory and Name of Moor be blest That Loyal President for all the rest Let Faction cease and Loyalty get Ground Till not one Whig be in the Nation found Then we'el rejoice as in the Days of Yore And Salamancka's shall be known no more The King of Poland's Last Speech to his Countrey-men I Know you hope all once to be Great Men of Note and Majesty For this our now Supremacy Is Nonsence Why should one Man for ever sway A Scepter who 's but made of Clay Why may not we our selves obey In Conscience But now 't is come Alas we see That all our Fame turns Infamy Ah! such a thing is Policy With Tories The buzzing Jealousies and Fears Into the Peoples list'ning Ears For all those many busie years Are Stories Since in late Plots w'have gone astray 'T is time to look another way And not in such a Case delay 'T will harm us No doubt y'have heard of Forty One Of all the Prancks that then were done And of the happy Conquest won Let 's arm us And play those very Cards agen For all those Antients were but Men Five Israelites may well beat ten Philistines Let 's cry Oppression through the Town Oppression of the Court and Gown And raise in Tumult every Clown To Listings We 'll first expose the Laws to Shame And next the Loyal Part defame If Good or Bad they 'r all the same No odds make Yet let Religion be the Word To shade Rebellion and the Sword Then play the Divel under board For God's
Guilty and to shew 't was well done The People gave a Shout for Victory won The truth c. IX 'T is strange how these Jesuits so subtle and wise Should all by the Pope be so basely trepann'd To hang with much comfort when he shall advise And go to the Devil too at his command He may give them leave To lye and deceive But what when the Rope does of Life them bereave Can his Holiness think you dispense with that pain Or by his Indulgence raise them again The truth c. X. Yet like Mad-men of Life a Contempt they express And of their own happiness careless appear For Life or for Money not one wou'd confess They 'd rather be Damn'd than be Rich and live here But surely they rav'd When God they out-brav'd And thought to renounce him the way to be sav'd And with Lies in their mouths go to Heav'n in a string So prosper all Traytors and God save the King The truth of my Story if any one doubt We have Witnesses ready to swear it all out Concordat cum Recordo Cl. Par. The third Part. Written by a Lady of Quality The Plot is vanish'd like to a bashful Sprite Which with false flashes â—ools could only fright The wise whose clearer Souls can penetrate Find's shadows drawn before Intrigues of State God bless our King the Church and Nation too Whilst perjur'd Villains have what is their due I. THe Presbyter has been so active of late To twist himself into the Myster of State Giving Birth to a Plot to amuse the dark World 'Till into Confusion three Kingdoms are hurl'd It is so long since He Murther'd his Prince That the unwary Rabble he hopes to convince With Jingling words that bears little sence Deluding them with Religious pretence II. Their Scribling Poet is such a dull Sot To blame the poor Devil for hatching the Plot The Murther o' th' King with many things more He falsly would put on the Jesuits score When all that have Eyes Be they foolish or wise May see the sly Presbyter through his disguise Their brethren in Scotland has made it well known By Murthering their Bishop what sins are their own III. The Poet whose sences are somewhat decay'd Takes Joan for a Jesuit in Masquerade His Muse ran so fast she ne'er look'd behind her Or else to a Woman she would have prov'd kinder His fury 's so hot To Hunt out the Plot That fain he would find it where it is not Although I 've expos'd it to all that are wise He has stifled his Reason and blinded his Eyes IIII. An old Ignis fatuus who leads men astray And leaves them i' th the Ditch yet still keeps his way In politique head first framed this Plot From whence it descended to Presbyter Scot Who quickly took Fire And assoon did expire Having grave sactious fools their zeal to admire Who for the same cause would freely fly out But Plotting's more safer to bring it about V. Here 's one for Religion is ready to fight That believes not in Christ yet swear's he 's i' th right If our English Church as he says be a Whore We 're sure 't was Jack Presbyter did her deflowr He 'd fain pull her down As well as the Crown And prostitute her to every dull Clown To bring in Religion that 's fit for the Rabble Whilst Atheism serves himself that 's more able VI. A Pestilent Peer of a levelling Spirit Who only the Sins of his Sire doth inherit With an unsteady mind and Chymerical brain Which his broken Fortune doth weakly sustain He lodg'd i' th' City Like Alderman brave Being fed up with Faction to which he 's a slave He never durst fight but once for his Whore Which his feeble Courage attempted no more VII Another with Preaching and Praying wore out Inspir'd by th' Covenant is grown very stout Th' old Cause to revive it is his design Though the fabrick of Monarchy he undermine He tortur'd his Pate Both early and late I' th' Tower where this Mischief he hop'd to create But to Countrey dwelling he now doth retire To Preach to Domesticks whilst they do admire VIII Another with Head both empty and light For the good Old Cause is willing to fight I' th' Choice of fit Members for th' next Parliament He spit out his zeal to the Rabbles content Whilst his wife in great State Chose a Duke for her Mate For whose sake a Combustion he needs would create For since his Indulgence allows her a Friend He 'd make him as great as his Wish can extend IX There 's one whose fierce Courage is fal'n to decay At Geneva inspir'd he 's much led away He would set up a Cypher instead of a King From Presbyter zeal such folly doth spring He once did betray A whole Town in a day And since did at Sea fly fairly away He had better spin out the rest of his Thread In making Pot-Guns which disturb not his Head X. Some others of Fortunes both disperst and Low With big swelling Titles do's make a great show A flexible Prince they would willingly have That to Presbyter Subjects should be a meer slav They'd set him on 's Throne To tumble him down They scorn to submit to Scepter and Crown And into Confusion or Commonwealth turn A People that hastens to be undone If such busy heads that would us confound Were all advanc'd high or plac'd under ground W'd honour our King and live at our ease And make the dull Presbyter do what we please Who has cheated our Eyes With borrow'd disguise Till of all our Reason they 'd taken Excise But let 's from their slavery strive to be free And no People can e'er be so happy as we Upon the Popish PLOT Written by a Lady of Quality Whether you will like my Song or like it not It is the down fall of the Popish Plot With Characters of Plotters here I sing Who would destroy our good and gracious King Whom God preserve and give us cause to hope His Foes will be rewarded with a Rope I. SInce Counterfeit Plots has affected this Age. Being acted by Fools and contriv'd by the Sage In City nor Suburbs no man can be found But frighted with Fire-balls their heads turned round From Pulpit to Pot They talk'd of a Plot Till their Brains were enslav'd and each man turn'd Sot But let 's to Reason and Justice repair And this Popish Bugbear will fly into Air. II. A Politick States-man of Body unsound Who once in a Tree with the Rabble set round Run Monarchy down with Fanatick Rage And preach'd up Rebellion i'th at credulous age He now is at work With the Devil and Turk Pretending a Plot under which he doth lurk To humble the Mitre while he squints at the Crown Till fairly and squarely he pulls them both down III. He had sound out an Instrument fit for the Devil Whose mind had been train'd up to all that was Evil His Fortune sunk low
through sixteen Doors and more Communicating with the Roman Whore I call'd him stubborn Rogue that ne're would bend And told them plainly he was not their Friend Therefore advis'd them to contrive his end I workt it so for all his great Commands I made him glad to scape out of their hands By shifting for himself in foreign Lands I rav'd and went on and was 't not prety To accuse the King in the secret Committee And jeer him at Clubbs and Cabals i' th' City I wonder'd how brave English Heroes cou'd Be Rul'd and Govern'd by the Scottish Blood Such Servitude I ne're esteemed good Therefore their indignation to appease If that they 'd issue forth a Writ of Ease I 'd serve't on Him when their Honours please I taught the people that since Babel-Tower From them alone Kings did derive their power Whom if they pleas'd they might change every hour From Club to Club made drunk where e're I came I loudly rail'd against the STVARTS Name And did their Fathers Persecutions blame I made Dissenting Saints believe that He Design'd t' ensnare their Souls and Liberty And on Him sham'd the Irish Massacre I prais'd old Noll the Armies Bully-Rock With those good men that brought Him to the Block Him above all that gave the fatal knock I curst the Fates of that unlucky day Wherein Old Rowley strangely slipt away And would not for his Friends at Worcester stay I wisht the Devil might th'Popish Traytor choak That hid Him from us in the rotten Oak Which is as true a word as e're I spoke A sneaking Dog whose conscience was so nice A Thousand pounds would not the Thiefentice I would have don 't for half the money twice With grief I celebrate that Feast in May Which Tories call their great Thanksgiving day As for a Judgment then I fast and pray These are the Services I 've done the Nation As a fore-runner of new Resormation And to make way for the Association For which I should to great preferment rise Rewarded and advanc'd above the Skies By th' keepers of the English Liberties This to be true Time would have prov'd my words Better then Bar of Commons or of Lords By the fair Tryal of your Pikes and Swords For as Reformers must I 've wrought some wonders Which should have been confirm'd by Warlikâ— Thundeâ— Made out by 〈◊〉 Sacriledge and Plundâ—â— With Roman Bulls Black-bills and Smithfied Spits I frighted three Kingdoms out of their Wits And made them fall into Convulsion-fits I made them on a sudden fly to Prayer For fear of Mountains falling from the Air Which made some soft Pates of their Brains dispair Some choose to die by true Protestant Ropes And some for fear of Papists cut their Throats For which they were beholding unto Oales Whilst others frighted with the hideous cries Of Fairy Armies fighting in the Skies By gazing up lost both their Heads and Eyes Some thought the Island was just running round No steady place of sooting to be found For fear they run away and left the ground That Roman Canibals in furious mood Were coming to destroy th'Protestants brood And eat them all at once for want of food No man could 〈◊〉 on Pillow lay down's head As in full Senate learnedly One said Least he might â—ise withâ— Throat cut in 's Bed For as we are told by a deceased Squire In 's Narratives of Massacres and Fire How narrowly we scap'd the Papists Ire That they had made the great Vesuvian Hills Into Fire-balls as small as Doctors Pills And secretly convey'd them o're in Quills The Trayt'rous Jesuits and their cursed backers Had made mount Aetna in Squibs and Crackers To throw burn our Cloaths to Rags Tatters All this was but a Tryal of my Skill Like th'Exercise of Quixot and his Mill I was resolv'd to do more wonders still I raised forty thousand of the Dead Souldiers that from their Camp last Age were fled And fed them under-ground with Ginger-bread Armies of Pilgrims I call'd out of Spain Embarqu'd in a Nut-shell safely on the Main And in a trice convey'd them back again I made a Prince that was of little stature With half a word a tall and comely Creature My very breath chang'd him in every feature I rais'd up â—yges robb'd him of his Ring And by that means convers'd with many a King So secretly Themselves knew not thâ— thing I beg'd of Juno Argus's head and eyes To place abroad in Princes Courts for spyes So that I knew of every Enterprize I knew all mankind living on the Earth Set private marks upon them at their Birth Which caus'd amongst some people wondrous mirth Though now and then I bawkt by Candle light Pox on my sences and my duller sight Could not diserna Squire from a Knight These and a thousand other pretty pranks I 've play'd with men of all degrees and Ranks For which I did expect some better thanks I little thought that this sweet Face of mine That looks so like a Reverend Grave Divine Should come so soon thro' Iron Grates to shine I never dreamt of such rewards as these Whilst that I liv'd in Palaces of ease Sporting with my prity Gammedes Nor did I think my Labours and my â—oyles Should be rewarded in the common Jayls T would make â— Welch-man swear Guâ—s pluâ—â—er her Naiâ—â— But Oh! see what the destinies have brought to pass That folks at last should make me such an Ass As to keep Colts with Oates instead of Grasâ— I thought the Nation would have paid my sâ—ore For a reward have thrown me something more But now I see I am deceiv'd full sore As holy Mussel-men do count and write Their great Hegira from their Prophets flight When for Rebellion he was banish'd quite So may I date my woes from that same day My Polish Princely Patron run away And left his people in the mire and clay Why did he not take me with him to dwell When he embark'd for Holland and for Hell I ne're shall get there half so safe and well My mind long since presages dreadful things With tortured cryes my Ears already rings And think each man some fatal tiding brings My Tongue that never fail'd me yet now falters I dream of nothing but of Hemp and Hâ—her And frightful Visions of the Rye-house Maâ—â—ers Methinks I see some of my Friends come o're And becken to me from the Stygian Shore All pale and wan and welter'd in their gore Methinks I see each night stern vengeance stand Over my head with naked Sword in hand Threatning Est Soons to rid me of the Land Oft times I dream of those bald gastly Pates O' th' Bridge and Quarters o're the City Gates Pitying as 't were my own those poor mens fates And then I fear least the just Fates decree As a Reward for my Fidelity The Doctor to adorn the Triple-Tree But hang me Sirs if e're you catch me there When once I 've brought my self into the snare In
Note in Sorrow for our King Whom to the worth no Poet can bemoan Though all the Seas were turn'd to Helicon But there 's no need our Sorrow to Infuse Or strain Elogiums from a Mournful Muse In 〈◊〉 Hearts the cause of our sad Grief 〈◊〉 â—loods of Tears though in the end Relief Great Charles is Dead who was Great Britains King 〈◊〉 â—n Exploits who Trophies great did bring 〈…〉 and â—lenty to His own three Realms â—â—rough storms of State which he did turn to Calms Our by-past Prophesies did point Him forth Preceding Kings were Shadows of His worth Then cast up Virtues to one total sum Perfections Product will be found in Him We will Engrave His Name in Marble Pure With Diamond of the Black Rock to endure Till after Ages that our Children may Pay Tears for Tribute to His Sacred Clay Could men in Arms our Sorrows stroak assail Or floods of Tears with Cruel Death prevail We'd Muster all our Forces then with speed And Weeping Eyes should overflow the Tweed But sure the King of Kings hath giv'n the stroak And Mortals cannot Destiny revoke We 'll kiss the Rod though we the smart regrate Submitting though unto our rigid Fate Yet we 'll breath doleful Sighs to His sad Herse That 's dipt in Tears and Elegiack Verse T'immortalize Great Charles His Royal Name And be Memento's on the Wings of Fame Then rest dear Saint though dead yet still alive Though laid in dust Times Age thou shalt survive Thour' t mounted high above the Worlds renown With Kings and Priests to wear a Cross-less-Crown And though our Grief cannot our loss prevent Let this sad Verse but give our Passion vent EPITAPH HEre lyes Grave Majestick Dust Which when alive was Good and Just Great Charles the second Britain's King Whose valour makes us Weep and Sing His Crown environ'd was with Thorn Which makes His Subjects double Mourn By Land and Sea he did our Work The Fear and Terrour of the Turk He Peace to Europe did restore When other Kings had given it o'r Defender of the Faith that 's true Vntil he had the World adieu Let Princes Eternize His Name And make his worth their Diadem Now since the Sighs that did Eclipse our Skie By His Successors Light begins to flye O're Tears we 'll Triumph since our sore doth bring The surest Salve which is a Lawful King We 'll pâ—â— Allegiance due on Charles his score To JAMES the VII and many Millions more P. K. An Elegy on the Deplorable and never enough to be Lamented Death of the Illustrious and Serene CHARLES the Second KING of Great-Britain France and Ireland c. Who departed this Life February the 6th 1685. HAng all the Streets with Sable Sad and call The Royal Palace Black and not White-Hall Weep Sacred Beads of Loyal Tears and true Of Orient Pearl but Occidental Hew Since Britains Phoebus hath forsook the Stage Before he reach'd the Tropick of his Age. The interval betwixt our Setting Sun And Rising Soveraign ' ere his Light begun Was short yet till our Sorrow soung Relief We were near delug'd in the Seas of Grief Yet tho' our Soveraign doth our Mourning ' swage And gives our joy of Grief the Weather-gage We 'll make no Bonesires for it were in vain Our flowing Eyes would Weep them out again All Israel when good Hezekiah dy'd To his last Bâ—â—ath true â—â—oyal Honour pay'd Where 's then the Boldest Critick â—n deny 〈…〉 CHARLES his worth a Dâ—leful ELâ—GY 〈◊〉 Worth to Times last â—riod shall Endure In 〈◊〉 of Envy oâ— the Grave Secure And Children yet 〈◊〉 with Tears shall pay A 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 use â—o his sacred Clay He from His Child-hood was of great Renown He bore his Cross before he wore his Crown Brancht in the stock of Trouble 't is well known His Fruit was Ripe the Blossom yet unblown Great Britains Bane and Blush Eclips'd his Skie E'r England knew his Soveraignty But as his Sun ascended the Noon-day Aâ— Clouds like Vapours vanish'd quite away 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 â—right Calms of Peace did still remain â—â—â—ough the whole Circle of his Halcyon Reign Then Rest dear Saint tho' now Intomb'd in Dust Unâ—il the Resurrection of the Just And let our Mourners mitigate their Grief Because our Sorrow doth admit Relief The Vail of Death no Christian needs dismay The King of Kings Himself did guide the Way And since our Sore a Salve along doth bring God save Great JAMES our Second Soveraign King Let his Dâ—minions preface Black and White Since Rising Phoebus dissipates our Night Let Loyal Subjects all both cry and Sing Like Birdâ— Reviv d in the returning Spring Let Court and City raise their joyful Voice And Loyal Sighs still Eccho back Rejoyce Till Plotters all Conspiracies lay by And Treason turn to purest Loyalty Hence thâ—n projecting Traytors stand aloof His Loyal Throne is sure and Treason-Proof Lest sit on Edâ—e by old Seditious Smâ—â— Your Treasâ—ns Trapturn round upon your Neck His Presence may no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Resort Nor base 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 his Court But Reign in Peace whil'st we have in our Eye CHARLES still live in JAMES'S Royalty But since he 's Dead and gone let this sad Verse Tho' undeserving yet attend his Herse EPITAPH HEre lyes Great Charles the Just the Good As ever came of Royal Bloâ—d To Troubles Born he Early knew What Kings as Men are subject to His Morning Glâ—ries were â—'recast And by some Fatal Star Opprest But as his Sun ascended Noon The cruel Comet did fall Down In Peace he Liv'd in Peace he Dy'd The Kingdom and the Churches Guiâ—e The Guardian of the swelling Main The Terrour of the DUTCH and DANE At his Command all war did Cease And Europe Owes to him her Peace Diseases at his Power did Crouch And own the Virtue of his Touch. Let KINGS and PRINCES in him Glory And make his Reign their Directâ—ry To His Sacred Majesty King JAMES II. ALL Hail Great Prince whom â—â—'â—y Miracle Preserv'd for Vniversal Ruâ—â— When Time Your Wondrous Story shall unsold Your Gloriâ—us Deeds in Arms when â—â—â— but Young Your strange â—scapes and Dangerâ— shall be told Your Battles Fâ—â—ghâ— Your Guildâ—◠〈◊〉 is â—â—â— When yet the Elder Generals not in Fame Your Perils dar'st noâ— share Alone the raging Torrent You wou'd stem And bear before You the fierce Tide of War How Spain Records Your Glorious Name And how when Danger call'd for Britains good You paid the lavish Ransom of Your Blood When the Ingrates shall Blushing read How far great Souls the Vulgar can exceed In Patience Suffering and Humility Your Condescention and Your Banishment Then let the Obstinate convinc'd agree You only were preserv'd and fit for Sacred Government Come listen all whom needless fears possess And hear how Heav'n confirms Your Happiness Behold the Sacred Promis'd Prince Whom wond'rous Prophets Ages since Told When the Mystick figures of the Year To such a Number should Amount As sill this Lucky Years Account O're England
Sex appear'd more bright Whowith hard gazing fed their eager sight Then sigh'd wisht did the rest in dreams at night So closely prest they did one Mass appear But when bright James his fair Queen drew near The mighty Bulk did its own self divide And made a Golden Wall on either side Through which they to the Princes Chamber past To take Repose for Gods themselves must rest Where having had some short Re-fection And Glorious proper Robes of State put on In the Abby now where Pomp Tryumph waits Behold the Royal God-like CANDIDATES Where after numerous Ceremonies past Of Vnction Oaths c. which several hours did last Their Sacred Heads receiv'd the Imperial Crown By CANTERBVY's happy hand set on Blest Man what bliss hast thou receiv'd this hour What couldst thou wish or could Heav'n give thee more Th'exact Description of the Cavalcade And the bright Figures ev'ry Order made What hands the Scepter Sword Staff Orb did wear Or who Curtana or the Spurs did bear Or by what Peers the Crowns supported were What Favourites next the Presence did remain Or what bright Youths bore up the Royal Train How from the Temple to the Hall They past Where waited for them a Stupendious Feast What Hecatomb fell Victims to Their Board Or what vast Seas of Wine it did afford And lastly how with the vast Infinite Train They to White-Hall now Crown'd return'd again Are Thames that would a mighty Volume ask Nor is' t a Poets but the Heralds task Besides it would more charge of time require Then now my niggard Fate is pleas'd to spare But having yet Survey'd the Court alone I now would make the Peoples transports known But I alass want Language to express my own Ten thousand Bells in one loud Consort joyn Both Earth and Heaven it self to Entertain Sure for this Reason they were rais'd on High That th' Gods might better hear this Harmony The Pleasant Musicks nimble foot-steps hear Passing Harmoniously from Sphere to Sphere Which now the Starry Battlements has found Which Hark reverberates and multiplies the Sound They Man's Officious Injurious call Who interpos'd the design'd Miracle For Joy their useless Ropes away they 'd throw And Musick on their own accord bestow Next Loyal Fires the Peoples Offerings see Like Burning Groves raising their Heads on high As if this night was destin'd to devour What was design'd for the next Winter Store See how it Mounts as if 't had an intent To reach the Stagarytes Fictitious Element Whilst on Thames too they such vast Fire-works make That all her Streams seem but one Flaming Lake The Frightned Gods thinking their Skies on Fire For safety to the farthest Heav'ns retire They fear'd another Race of Gyants rose Who now had Fire instead of Mountains chose But when Discreeter Gods saw the intent Instead of Thunder and Revenge they sent A Herald to proclaim this Complement Blest Change And now the Heav'nly Powers rejoyce That England does approve of their Wise Choice And to its Throne wrong'd Loyalty restore Where Treason stretch'd its ugly Limbs before Being Loyal grown Your Bliss is now compleat For You before all Blessings had but That This day you 've Crown'd a King whose God-like Reign Restores you the Blest Golden Age again A Poem on the CORONATION FLie Envious Time why dost our Bliss delay Repair Death's thy wrongs give us day The Day which from our Woes must free us all Whom Grief would else Martyr in Charles's fall That Ador'd Monarch whose Illustrious Name Alone speaks more than all the Tongues of Fame Whose Loss levy'd a Tax of Sighs and Moan And forc'd the World t'an Universal Groan Hold hold my Muse The Dawn new-gilds the Skies See where Great James our second Sun does rise And quite exhales these Vapours from our Eyes Tears and the Sable signs of Grief give way Chac'd by the Beams of this most Glorious Day A Day doubly design'd by Destiny To remain Sacred to Posterity Something for Geerge's Birth was to It due But now it is Three Kingdoms Birth-Day too From this Coronation â—e our Lives Renew Each Loyal Heart is struck by'ts Sovereign Rays And fill'd at once with Gratitude and Praise Hark! how the Streets with cheerful Shouts do Ring Excessive Joys in ev'ry Bosom spring And the whole Town do IO PAEANS sing While th' Air as loath such Loyal Sounds to lose With thousand Ecchoes does prolong each close Behold what heaps of Hatts aloft there fly Like thickn'd Clouds they steal away the Sky T' attend this Earthly Jove the World agrees In-landers leave their Homes Sea-men the Seas Both English born those that Neighbours are With Exultation cleave the yielding Air. So in some Garden deckt with Flora's Pride Where all the Glories of the Spring reside There near a Waxen Canopy we see Thousands thus Buz about the Royal-Bee Nature at this Solemnity Revives And the glad Earth by James's Infl'ence Thrives Hills Vallies Woods are drest in new Attire April at its own Beauty does Admire The wing'd Musicians Carol in the Air The Spacious Meadows Green-Plush Mantles wear Nay the pleas'd Heav'n's without a Cloud appear Whilé all the Flowers of the Spring do meet And than Arabian Spices smell more sweet The Mighty Pan the Mighty Pan to Greet How sensible the Houses are 't is He Who but in Arras-Gowns the King will see Walls Windows Roofs Tow'rs Steeples all are set With several Eyes but the least Glimpse to get And lo the Costly Pomp is now in view Which claims our Wonder and our Homage too The like of this Day 's State not Italy Sings Consular Triumphs were but petty things Rome too as short of this in Shows you 'll find As her Now Glories are from those declin'd Triumphant Sight In this one Train we may Of all that 's Noble take a full Survey Do Arms Delight ye Surfeit here your View On Troops as can th' Insulting World subdue Nay Learning here in its Perfection shines And Athens now to Westminster Resigns Religion Law each her best Charms displays Chear'd by the Warmth of his Indulgent Rays Who gave His Word that he 'll maintain the State His Word Unalt'rable as the Book of Fate VVho'll say the City Brethren Misers be And but beholds their this Days Bravery None none and by their Gallantry all guess Their Loyalty's the Cause of their Excess VVhat Rich Attire the Spirit'al Lords array VVhat Massie Coronets Adorn the Lay Such Cloath of Gold and Silver Kill my Brain My Opticks fail and I grow Blind again Arch-Angels sure leaving their Glorious Sphere Once-more themselves have Bodify'd and here Resolve as English Nobles to appear Princes who 've still been waited on now wait And Bowing here they count they sit in State But stay In this Terrestial Galaxy A Glitt'ring Troop of Beauties I descry VVho Ravish with too Bright a Tyranny Such Lustre ne're was seen in Thetis Train VVhen Drest i' th' Native Jewels of the Main At ev'ry Look I take new Charms arise Bright are their Diamonds Brighter are their Eys And in each Lovely Face do plainly move Un-number'd Signs of Beauty Wit and Love Shou'd Cold Diogenes these Fair Ones see Pierc'd by their Darts he wou'd Enamour'd be But what Fresh Object 's this Invades my Eye And bids my Soul gaze there Etternally Assur'd I am our Climate never held Before a Beauty so unparallel'd All Heavenly Features joyn themselves in one To shew their Triumph in this Face alone The Savages that Worship the Suns Rise Wou'd hate their God if they beheld these Eyes The Wealth She wears about her more does hide Than it Adorns Her Native Beauty's Pride Mirrour of Heaven Wonder of the Earth Oh! thou Bright Goddess of Caelestial Birth Now Caesar's Glory Augmentable seems Since You appear and deign to mix your Beams 'T is She 'T is Englands Queen whom thus we view The Crown not Her but She the Crown does Grace Before She sway'd an Empire in Her Face Had Virgil liv'd this Mary but to see Dido had in Oblivion Slept and She Had giv'n his Muse Her best Eternity And now the Monarch of the Day 's in sight From whom the rest receive their borrow'd Light Who giving way His Brighter Splendour own As Stars do vanish at th'approach o' th' Sun Oh! what a Flood of Virtues from Him flows How like a God Install'd on Earth He shows Thus when the Thickest Darkness Phoebus Shrowds With greater Fulgence he breaks through the Clouds Look on His Face His Royal Mein but mind And to be Traytors now we must be blind Mankind's Delight and Heavens chiefest Care To vict'ry as to 's Crown the Lawful Heir The World has always Shook at His Alarms At Sea and Land Success still Crown'd His Arms. Ye Bold Excluders see your Injur'd Prince And may this Sight You of your Crime convince Crouch crouch Rebellious Sirs own your Insolence Both how to Pardon and Revenge He knows To Guard his Friends and to Destroy his Foes Down down then at His Feet without delay With double Loyalty His wrongs repay Lay lay Him in your Hearts and beg of Fate He long may Reign though He is Crown'd but late He shall for th' thing that 's slowly's sure done And He whom Heaven designs to six on 's Throne It is the longer sitting Him thereon No more shall Lawless Hair-brain'd Faction â—age But may His Reign bring back the Golden Age. May from His Sacred Consort 's VVomb Increase Spring Present Joy and Future Ages Peace Let 's keep their â—ath which He a Subject made VVho still His King Unmurmuring Obey'd Let 's think His Foes be Ours as so They are Think on His Martyr'd Father and beware And let this Sight though ended ne're be done But let it still and still be Thought upon And Thought on ev'n to Convert Rebellion LONDON
Father you 'd deal with the Son I 've seen your Martyr's Peters Scot and Viner Sainted in Gold with Colledge the Joyner I 've seen your Pamphlets Libels Books of print Such ne're before came from the Devil's Mint I 've seen the Doctors Depositions too And faith he 's done as much as man could do Won't all this Old-new-found-Art do the work To pull the King down and set up the Kirk What No Cornucopia to be found Be all our Knights-Templers laid under ground Are our Braves good for nothing but to lap Th' infected droopings of a silver Tap Alas we want Ingredients Give Us a Parliament that shall ever live And the Militia we 're compleatly Blest CESAR do that and then Sir do your best What Snake-hair'd Fury with Infernal Brand Broke loose from Hell thus to inflame the Land Shall we be jealous of our blest Content Till cracking th'strings we break the Instrument Shall our Arch-Angel of the Devil 's See Drown'd Four and twenty of our Hierarchy And by a whirl-wind from the Stygian-Lake A Glorious Monarch and Three Kingdoms wreck Down Asmodeus down to the burning Pits Where thy Councel of State in Brimstone sits In that dark Conclave let thy Envy range Changing but That never expect more change Here Pity checks my Spleen and who can tell Good Angels sorrows when the Train too fell But they were blest with great perfection And though seduc'd the Crime was All their Beneath the Firmament it is not so Here 's imperfection in the High and Low One Lucifer on Earth may dangerous prove More than a Legion to One Saint above But see the Murder'd Martyrs Ghosts appear Your Native Prince and Fathers Shades stand there Lend Them your Eyes the Rabble not your Ear. And what would the mad Rabble have Let 's try And who would ask but one as mad as I Can the turbulent wind tell why it blows Gr tumbling Ocean why it Ebbs and Flows The senceless Rabble's but that Dust which flies With every puff of wind into our eyes It makes you pur-blind and defiles your Shooes Rather to piss on 't than to court it choose I 'll dare the Sun which hath survey'd the Earth Ever since Eve gave Cain and Abel Birth In all his Travels if he can declare A people Franchis'd as the English are All others Birth-right Bondage is but We Surfeit with Cates and glut with Liberty If Heaven should bid a Subject to implore What bliss we want he could not ask for more Oh the unhappy state of Happiness They enjoy more that do enjoy much less Rome in it's Pomp and Pride could never shew Men of that bulk of Wealth in England flow And every Cottager lives frank and free As Jove Here 's a perpetual Jubilee Hear one great Truth an English Subject sings We have one Emperour and a Million Kings To the KING Celestial Prince descended from above With Goodness and the wisdom of great Jove Hov'ring the Doves with thy Seraphick Wings Still Shielding Church and State from Serpents Stings Accept the Addresses of our Humble praise 'T is all the Incense Men to God can raise When civil War Three Kingdoms did inthrall You were the Saviour that Redeem'd us all And rais'd miraculously from their Graves Thre Soul-sunk Nations that were Slaves to Slaves Mean Thanks do mighty favours quite disgrace But dull Ingratitude becomes the base How Justly may'st thou let thy Thunder fly Both Giants and Pigmies doom'd to dye What will they war with Jove in vain in vain Whom th' Gods have Crown'd in spight of Worms shall Reign Repent proud Dust before it he too late Strike Sail my Muse shall be your Advocate Hear great Apollo Phoebus lend thine Ear To an unpolisht Muse's humble Prayer She lifts no Phaetontick palm on high Lo her request is veil'd with Modesty Thou that art goodness Essence Thou that keeps Clemency waking that she never sleeps Look on the Errours of Mortality With the kind Aspect of your God-like Eye Though they have sin'd and certainly a Sin To death had it against a bad Prince been And their Transgressions in an high degree Are aggravated to sin thus against Thee My poor Muse begs although their sins be great That Thou wouldst not Forget to forget To the DUKE And Thou great Hero of loud Fames first rate Still partner of your Royal Brothers Fate Who baffle Mischief and her Dart despise And stand the firmer for her Batteries Whilst Envy toyls her self quite out of breath You undisturb'd can smile the Wretch to death Malice is now in a Consumption grown To see her self mistook in You alone Still the more venom that on You they throw Still you the Taller and more lovely grow Can walk the Fiery Furnace and no Hair Sing'd no smell of Fire no impair Fond men To hope they can destroy whom Jove Preserves by Wonders and peculiar Love Never before prosumptive Heir did sure Worse Wrongs from most presumptive Men endure Well may they droop their Heads and Neâ—ks incline As Tulips Frost bit with a Northern Wind To Prudence still and Piety you 'r Just And do forgive whom none will wish to trust To the LORDS You of the Constellation that maintain Your starry Glories from Apostate stain You whose chaste Loyalty for ever stream'd To th' Royal Lamp of Honour whence You beam'd You shall for ever share the Muses Praise Whilst Helicon hath Drops Apollo Bays To the GENTRY Come Brothers of the Minor-Stars that are No wandring Planets but fixt in Your Sphere You that have vow'd to be so True To Charles that to your selves you be so too And sure I am your Oath will not be broke You 'l bow to Destiny before the Yoke We must not praise nor thank our selves that 's vain That were but Champarty You know in grain But we 'l so Loyal and so Faithful live That Church and Crown 's Fees Us no thanks shall give To the Common-Councel and Court of Aldermen And You brave Citizens so Rich and Wise The Boons of Heavens due to Loyalties Heaven marks them who from Allegiance stray With Children Wits or Fortunes quite awry You that hold th' Rains curb the head-strong Jaws Of Asses kickt at Governours and Laws You know that Trade doth still most profit bring To them are true to God and to their King Long may You live and may the Town and Court Be happy in the prayers of my poor heart May no King want such Citizens I pray Nor Towns-men Prince like him they now enjoy To the Livery-men But You that are now of th' new Livery And Old Leven look for no thanks from me Keep to your Gods on damned Bradshaw call Implore the shades of Ireton and Noll To come improv'd from Hell and be so good To set crackt men with Plunder up and Blood The Rabble shall no longer Rule this Town Rebellions Charter must now go down But yet we 'l beg the King that he would please To give another on good