Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n
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A80568
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A cordial for England, or a character of true Britains [t]ogether with a narrative and recital of all Popish plots in England since the days of Queen Elizabeth. And a prophesie of Romes downfal, by a Loyal Britain.
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Loyal Britain.
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1678
(1678)
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Wing C6284A; ESTC R229632
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2,832
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1
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A CORDIAL FOR ENGLAND OR A CHARACTER OF TRUE BRITAINS Together with a Narrative and Recital of all POPISH PLOTS in ENGLAND since the Days of QUEEN ELIZABETH And a PROPHESIE of ROMES DOWNFAL by a Loyal Britain Nemo sibi nascitur WE love our Mony and we love our Blood We value neither for our Countrys good Mars and Apollo both conjoyn'd in one Will say an Ajax and a Hector strong In time of Peace we 'll fight by Englands Law And when in Field we 'll fill their hearts with aw That dare oppose us with an open face They 're all dead men unless they quit the place We 'll neither quarrel duel swagger swear We will be patient for we Britains are We will be Lambs in time of publick Peace And when in Field we 'll Lions rage increase When as we come to hewing hacking work We 'll neither fear the French the Pope nor Turk Nor any other Instruments of Hell That would contrive our Land and Laws to sell Base Pensioners they are who under ground Combine to smite us by a dang'rous wound The Head is very sick our Body too Is in an inward Hecktick what shall 's do Let 's call a good Physician speedily He 's able upright and he 'll seek no Fee To save his Patients Life is his desire And for his pains he will not much require And rather then the Patients Life should go He 'll buy the Cordial he 's a friend not foe Then call him quickly call him come I pray I fear me much I 'm near a Critick day There 's many Symptoms and there 's Omens too Of a most sad Distemper that doth grow T is ready for to seize the Vital Seat When once it seizes then it is too late Oh Englands Clergy look about you now You are the men that have great work to do T is not your work you do fat Flocks to fleece When once the Fox gets in beware the Geece And we for our parts that Souldiers are Will of our Work and Duty have a care And tho the FLOWER o' th Flock is gone away Yet men remain that can fight in array And God Almighty bless us blast our Foes And give Success and victory over those That do combine and plot to take away Our sacred Soveraigns Life without delay And Protestant Religion desire Quite to extirpate and raze out by fire And great Dissentions which they daily raise Within the Church of England seeking praise They 'l plot in England in the open Sun And Massacres in Ireland they have done They thirst for Blood and long to see one night Of stabbing Skean-work English to affright Revive Oh England cheer thy heart agen Thy old Commander marches in the vann And he can quickly put thy foes in fear When once he bringeth up his Knocking rear And though at present we in forlorn hope Shall see a day of terror to the Pope And to all those that plot combine and lye In wait for Blood to spill it secretly Oh God of England rise awake agen In days of old we have thee glorious seen In Eighty eight they did invade our Land The Spanish Ships Armadoes did Command They came on boldly to the very Coast And in a full career they hop'd for roast But God Almighty put them all in fear And with his Fire-ships did scatter vann and rear He rais'd up brave Conductors Englishmen That made the Spaniards homewards go agen All this was done in Queen Elizabeths days To God Almighty England give the praise And in King James's time did they contrive To blow up mortal men while yet alive But Heaven forbad the Stroak and turn'd the blow Unto their final fatal overthrow And in the time of Charles the First our King Mighty combustions on the Land did bring They stirr'd up Fathers wrath against the Son And almost was the Nation quite undone By Civil Wars which they fomented so As laid poor England all in blood and wo And sent our Gracious Prince of blessed memory By fatal blow into eternity When this was done Prince Charles our present King They sent into Exile ah cursed thing But God was good and brought him back again And now the Crown doth on his Head remain This was not all enough but into Court These Monsters creep agen to make some sport And while this Toad in Bosom warm doth lye It soon begins to plot conspiracy So deep their Plot was laid so under ground So dark so hellish was th' intended wound By Poyson Pistol and by Silver slug But Heaven defeated this their fatal Drug And while the Horse was eating a few OATS His griping belly filled was with Bots And thus the Plot came out and truth it was Though now there is no Plot so let it pass 'T is no great matter Jesuits and Priests May sit on rotten Eggs Curst be their Nests And tho the House of Lords and Commons have Voted a hellish Plot yet still they wave The Name of Plot it is a cursed thing But had almost to ruine brought our King All this is nothing there is yet no fault T is not so bad to steal as to be caught And though the Fact be plainly prov'd on Tryal Their Faces can persist in bold denyal What can his Holiness and Rome devise Such cursed things as Plots all are but Lies And we poor Martyrs dye expos'd to scorn Yet are as innocent as th' child unborn Alas poor men they 're gone much wrong they had Coleman and Plunket many more as bad But silence now they 're dead silence I pray They 'll never plot agen I 'll boldly say Yet nevertheless if Pluto could but grant These Martyrs leave they 'd play another prank They'd find a Sham-Plot if it could be found That should lay England level with the ground And though they dye they are resolv'd like men To wish success unto the Plot agen They dye in Faith that Wasps are yet behind That will the self same Plot and Project mind And this is comfort to their wicked brest They sent poor Godfrey before them to rest The King and Kingdoms Martyr sure was he England he sav'd alive although he be Now dead yet still he lives and speaketh still Avenge my Blood on them that did it spill Alas what mean you Do not charge men so It was not they but his own Sword did do The Execution upon Primrose-hill After he strangled was they prove it will And will you not believe it Hereticks And Infidels you 're men out of your wits Now England judge I pray you men most wise Come near and view the Cradle-babe that cries His Name is Plot compare well and see Which is his Father Pope or Presbytry The former hath his limbs his hands his face Yet must the latter bear the Brats Disgrace 'T is no new thing indeed for every Whore Will lay her Bastard at anothers door But Lord have mercy on us must not we That guiltless are deny this Bastardye No no the Whorish womans Word is very great And 't is enough she says you did the feat But Heavens forbid that Protestants should be Abused by a Whore that 's all pocky And send our King a Solomons heart to make A Judgment just who shall this Bastard take And make her an example to all Whores Who lay their Bastards daily at mens Doors Lord God Almighty wake arise I pray And send to dawn that clear Sun shining day When Kings and Kingdoms all shall joyntly hate The Scarlet Whore and bring upon her pate The Vengeance written long ago foretold And prophesied in former days of old And when this Work is done Lord take the praise And to thy self a Generation raise To serve thee in a glorious gospel-Gospel-day When all the world shall walk in one good way And though I dye and never live to see Let God fulfil this ancient Prophesie My Countrys Friend Jacob Sontley