An Excellent New Song ON LEWIS le Grand, OR, THE French King and the Devil.
Tune of, The Orange.
Printed according to Order.
I.
A Song I will sing
Of a barbarous King
Who in France for many Years Ruler has been;
Look all the World o're,
Nay, Rome and its Whore,
Did never bring forth such a Monster before
This damn'd Monsieur.
II.
For the Protestant Crew,
He's resolv'd to undo,
As daily we find by experience too true;
He hangs up the one,
And a second's undone,
A third he is fain to pack up and be gone
From damn'd Monsieur.
III.
In this his curs'd evil,
He thinks himself civil,
And mightily pleas'd in serving the Devil;
By all that is good,
His delight is in bloud,
And chiefly to root out the Heretick brood
From damn'd Monsieur.
IV.
His Neighbouring Allies,
With Wars he supplies,
Not minding poor Children or Widows out-cries,
He sends Sword and Fire,
To make them retire,
Or else they must fall to the lustful desire
Of damn'd Monsieur.
V.
All these and much more,
This Son of a Whore
Has laid to his Charge, and does lye at his door,
For which he was try'd
And Condemned beside,
To be flung in the Fire, and there to be fry'd
This damn'd Mounsieur.
VI.
Now Lewis le Grand,
In Effigie is hang'd,
We hope 'twont be long e're his person do ga [...]g
To the Devil, whose due
Twas to have long ago,
So take in possession without more do
This damn'd Monsieur▪
VII.
Then Cerberus of Hell,
Come take to thy Cell,
The remains of a Carkass while any part's wel [...],
For the Pox in his Groin
And Fistula in time,
Will wholly deceive you of what you design
From damn'd Mounsieur.
Devil to Lewis.
I am sent ye to tell
You are wanted in Hell,
Since you your great Master has served so well,
Then come Thee along
To the fiery hot Thong,
Where your Ancestors do most impatiently long
For damn'd Monsieur.
Lewis to the Devil.
Pray Devil forbear,
For I'm not fit ware
To come to the paws of your Worship I swear;
But give me some time,
Purgatory to climb,
There for to Flux, then I am in good time
Your damn'd Monsieur.
Devil to Lewis.
Ay, begar Monsieur,
You need not to fear
Of Fluxing enough when in Hell you appear,
For your Body is soul,
And worse is your Soul,
Therefore to the De'il the Poxt Body must roul
Of damn'd Monsieur.
LONDON, Printed by T. M.