Monmouth Routed, and taken PRISONER, With his Pimp the Lord Gray. A SONG

To the Tune of King James's Jigg.
FIve thousand Pound for James the Scot,
That squeez'd out the Garbish and Guts of the Plot,
The Roaring Cannons did fright him away,
Yet Lumley secured his Pimp the Lord Gray;
Ferguson with his Preaching Tools,
Was fairly Kill'd with his Knaves and Fools,
King James will shew them who 'tis that Rules,
While the Whigs look as Muddy as Midnight Owles.
Brave Feversham, and Grafton did stand,
And Eagle-Ey'd Oglethorp's worthy Command;
He 'spy'd the Rebels like Thieves draw near,
At One in the Morning, e're Day did appear;
Yet all was in readiness took the Alarms,
The Word was given to Arms, to Arms:
The Cannons sweet Musick, the Soldiers charms
Whilst Mars was Assistant 'gainst Rebels and harms.
Brave Albamarle lay fair for their Flight,
And Beausord in Bristol scour'd the Kings Right:
As soon as ever the Day did appear,
Brave Pembrook fell foul o'th' Rout in the Rear,
Then began the stress of the Fray,
Gray turn'd Tails, with his Horns made away:
God Curse me quoth Gray; if longer I stay,
I never before saw so Bloody a Day.
Then Monmouth cry'd out, O Gray for my Life
Stand by me this Brunt and I'll Kiss thy Wife,
Then Gray swore Damn me, thou'st made me a Beast,
My Breeches are foul, I Run home to be drest:
The Kings Army, both Horse and Foot,
Fought through the Rebels through Fire and Blood
And Cut down the Enemies, all that stood,
Then Monmouth ran foremost, & thought it was good.
This was the success of our fine Fop-Things,
That came for to conquer the greatest of Kings,
Whose Commanders & Soldiers sooner would dye
In the Field of Honour than ever to flye:
We all their Standards there did gain,
And all their Cannons add to our Train,
While our Army doth flourish upon the Plain,
With Trophies of Honour, and lasting Fame.
And now they are beating the Bushes to find,
A King that left all his great Champions behind;
Who R [...]b'd the Churches in three weeks Reign,
And Ravish'd Young Virgins within the same;
Three Golden Bibles in his Flag,
Three Hackney Whores and his running Nag,
True Protestant Prince of which Presbiters brag
Is catch'd under a Hedge in a lousie rag
A fair Conclusion o'th' King in the West,
His Knights of the Garter instaled in hast;
Lord Keeper, and Secretaries of State,
Made under a Hedge, at his Court without Gate;
The George and Starr without Crack or Fledge,
To Fools not deserving a Porters Badge;
Like the King of the Gipsies, tuch'd Mall and Madge,
At his Majesties Court, given under a Hedge.

LONDON; Printed for James Dean, Bookseller, between the Royal Grove. and the Helmet in Drury-Lane, 1685.

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