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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A52991 A new song of the misfortunes of an old whore and her brats 1688 (1688) Wing N767AA; ESTC R217826 1,683 1

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A NEW SONG of the Misfortunes of an Old Whore and her Brats 1 ' THÔ the Old Hag of Rome Has Bewitch'd us all Dumb She can Tongue-tye our Muses no longer We now spue out her Charms And sing the brave Arms Of great Orange and Schomberg ding-dong Sir. 2 If we open'd our Lips Wooden Peep-holes and Whips Was of late the mild Pennance enjoyn'd us Now Truth 's no more Treason We esteem it a season To be merry and so you shall find us 3 Life-and-Fortune Addresses Shall not wear out our Presses To flatter and sooth a Just Nero But loud Declarations To secure the three Nations From the French and from Lilli-burlero 4 See how each Popish Gull D●es look silly and dull O hone O hone all are Lamenting They 've no Catholique Banter No wise Hind and Panther Nor any thing else worth the Printing 5 While we Hereticks do write Ay and Print too in spite Of the Devil to revenge our late wrongs Sir And the Hawkers hoarse Lungs With our Lampoons and Songs Make the Streets eccho all the day long Sir. 6 Now brave Orange advances What the fam'd League with France is We shall know to poor Catholiques sorrow Stricken with Pannick Fears How the VVhelps hang their Ears Pack up Reliques and bid us good Morrow 7 Father Petre and others Of his Politique Brothers Who one would think should have disdain'd it Are on fire to be gone Thô they might every one If they 'd stay here a little be Sainted 8 Just like old Rars and Mice These bold Vermine are wise When they find a house ready to tumble Away strait they advance Bound for Flanders or France Adieu Votre Serviteur humble 9 But pray what shall become O' th' young Kitlings of Rome I mean those the Old Whore has Converted VVhen they 're grip'd by the Claws Of reviv'd Penal Laws And by all Ghostly Fathers deserted 10 'T is hard to leave the poor Elves Thus to shift for themselves ●or unless you 'd confirm'd the Babes better-a With your Cowardise tainted They 'l e'ne grudge to be Sainted ●ith St. Coleman St. Whitebread c. 11 So when Witches are taken For enchanting Folks Bacon ●ows Horses or any such thing Sir And the Hang-man once takes 'em Their Imps all forsake 'em ●●d bequeath 'em to a tight Hempen-string Sir. 12 Our great States-men and Judges The Jesuites true Drudges 〈◊〉 advance the Plots of Holy Church Sir Do make wretched Grimaces Losing Pensions and Places To a Parliament left in the lurch Sir. 13 And the young Welch-man's Sire Stuck like Dun in the Mire With revengeful Despair looks around him And then Curses the Crowd That with Suffrages loud Shouted Vive le Roy when they Crown'd him 14 He thinks 't is an hard Fate Now to Capitulate And revoke his Indulg'd Dispensations To his Sons Terms to buckle To a Parliament truckle And Eat up his kind Declarations 15 'T is hard that dull Hereticks Still suspicious of Tricks Can't believe the young Bantling's his Son Sir As if Priests cou'd n't Create At least Transubstantiate Him a Boy for an Heir to his Crown Sir. 16 Nay renown'd Lords and Ladies A long Bead-row have made us With the Midwife and Learned Physicians Cannot all this convince That it is a Welch Prince Though we publish the plain Depositions 17 Well it seems to be short There 's no Remedy for 't Both his Gods and his Friends are retiring And his Army falls off While his Enemies scoff To see the Prince curb his aspiring 18 Have we not a wise King To resolve he would bring All to Rome's Lure or else Sacrifice Sir Three Kingdoms to his spleen And to th' Will of his Queen Did the World ever hear of a wiser 19 Without one sturdy fight He 's oblig'd to alight From the Throne which he envy'd his Brother And may like a poor Biggot Go embarque in a Friggot To see if he can find such another 20 Since these Switzers and Dutch-men Come to stand by our Church-men With hard grim Fellows from Fin-land The old Politique VVhore Now must never hope more To sit brooding o're Plots against England 21 Is 't not Reason and Sense If a King will Dispense With our Statutes and with his own VVord Sir To Decide the Just Cause Of Religion and Laws VVith a swinging great Protestant-sword Sir 22 The French Tyrant dissembles And huffs though he trembles We shall Visit that Son of a VVhore Sir If the VVeather hold fair VVe'd fain take a Tour there As our Fathers did in Days of Yore Sir. 23 VVhile the Germans before Pay him off his old score For the Mischief they 've felt and do fear Sir With Pike Sword and Pistol We shall Probe his old Fistule And Charge the Dog home in the rear Sir. FINIS