A choice collection of 120 loyal songs, all of them written since the two late plots, (viz.) the horrid Salamanca Plot in 1678, and the fanatical conspiracy in 1683. Intermixt with some new love songs with a table to find every song to which is added, an anagram, and an accrostick on the Salamanca doctor

A choice collection of 120 loyal songs, all of them written since the two late plots, (viz.) the horrid Salamanca Plot in 1678, and the fanatical conspiracy in 1683. Intermixt with some new love songs with a table to find every song to which is added, an anagram, and an accrostick on the Salamanca doctor

Table of contents

Title page

To the Reader.

A Table of all the new Songs contained in this Book.

§

Books Printed and Sold by Nath. Thompſon ▪ at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden near Charing-Croſs.

A Collection of New Loyal SONGS, Made ſince the beginning of the PLOT.

§

The Whigs Exaltation, a Pleaſant New Song,

An Excellent New Hymn, Exalting the Mobile to Loyalty, &c.

A Song on His Royal Highneſs's return from Scotland.

The Riddle of the Roundhead.

Ignoramus: An Excellent Song.

London's Loyalty,

The Loyal Health. A Court Song,

The Loyal Scot; an Excellent New Song,

The State Empirick, a New Song.

Titus Tell-Troth: A Song

The Compleat Swearing-Maſter:

A Tory in a Whig's Coat:

The Proteſtant FLAYL:

IGNORAMUS•Juſtice,

The Loyal Feaſt•;

Old Jemmey.

The Honour of Great York and Albany,

The Well-wiſhers to the Royal Family.

London's Joy and Loyalty On His Royal Highneſſes Return from Scotland.

The Tory Song on His Highneſs Return from Scotland.

The PLOT Cram'd into Jones Placket

The Happy return of the Old Dutch Miller.

A Congratulation on the Happy Diſcovery of the Helliſh Fanatick Plot.

The Loyal Sheriffs of London and Midleſex. Upon their Election.

Loyalty Triumphant, on the Confirmation of Mr. North and Mr. Rich, Sheriffs of London and Middleſex.

London's Joy and Triumph, on the Inſtalment of Sir William Pritchard L. Mayor for the enſuing year.

Ryot upon Ryot; or a SONG upon the Arreſting the Loyal Lord Mayor and Sheriffs.

London's Lamentation for the loſs of their Charter.

The Wine-Coop•rs Delight,

A Song upon the King Poland, and the Prince o' the Land of Promiſe.

The Hunting of the Fox.

Dagon's Fall.

Hue-and-Song after Patience Ward.

A new SONG on the Arrival of Prince George, and his Intermarriage with the Lady Anne.

A new Song made by a Perſon of Quality, and ſung before His Majeſty at Wincheſter

The New-market SONG

A New Song on the Fan. Plot,

The Conſpiracy; or, the diſcovery of the Fanatick Plot.

RƲSSEL's Farewel Tune, Oh, the merry Chriſt-Church Bells, &c.

Euſtace Comines the Iriſh Evidence, his Farewel to England. Tune,

Monarchy Tryumphant; or, the fatal fall of Rebels.

The Plot and Plotters confounded; or, the down-fall of Whiggiſm.

Whig upon Whig; or a Pleaſant diſmal SONG on the old Plotters newly found out.

The Whigs Droun'd in an Honeſt Tory Health.

An excellent new Song on the late Victories over the Turks.

Tangiers Lamentation on the Demoliſhing and Blowing up of the Town, Caſtle and Citadel ▪

The Hiſtory of Whiggiſm, From their Riſe, to their late horrid and unparallel'd Conſpiracy.

The Whigs▪ hard Heart the cauſe of the hard Froſt.

The Swearers Chorus to the Presbyterian Plot.

A New SONG.

Ʋnfortunate Jockey; or, Jenneys Lamentation for the loſs of Jockey.

The Wincheſter Wedding; or, Ralph of Redding, and Black Beſs of the Green.

A Narrative of the Old Plot, being a New SONG.

The Praiſe of the Dairy-Maid, with a Lick at the Cream-pot, or Fading Roſe.

A new SONG Sung before the Loyal Livery-Men in Wiſtminſter-hall July the 19th. 16•.

A Narrative of the Popiſh-Plot, ſhewing the cunning contrivance thereof.

The Contents of the Firſt Part.

The Second PART. The Contents of the ſecond Part.

A general Sale of Rebellious Houſhold-Stuff.

Advice to the City: or, the Whigs Loyalty.

Blanket Fair, or the Hiſtory of Temple-ſtreet. Being a Relation of the merry Pranks plaid on the River of Thames during the great Froſt.

Freezland-Fair, or the Icey Bear-Garden.

Toney's Soliloquies.

Rejoyce in Tryumph, Or a Plaudite on the Ottamens defeat at Vienna.

Cupid turn'd Muſqueteer.

No Proteſtent-Plot; or, the Whigs Loyalty With the Doctor's New Diſcovery,

The Loyal Conqueſt, or Deſtruction of Treaſon.

State and Ambition, A New SONG at the Dukes Theatre.

Pluto, the Prince of Darkneſs, his Entertainment of Collonel Algernoon Sidney, upon his Arrival at the Infernal Palace

The Kings Health, ſet to Farrinel's Grounds. In ſix PARTS,

A New SONG on the Inſtalment of Sir John Moor Lord Mayor of London.

The Whig-Intelligencer: or, Sir Samuel in the Pound, for publiſhing Scandalous and Seditious Letters, for which he was Flu'd 10000 l.

Oates Thraſh'd in the Compter, and Sack'd-up in Newgate.

A new way to Play an old Game.

The Loyal Iriſh-mam.

A Litany from Geneva, In anſwer to that from St Omers.

The Norwich Loyal Litany.

A new Litany to be Sung in all Conventicles for Inſtruction of the Whigs

SONGS never before in Print.

A new SONG made on the Parliaments removing from London to Oxford.

A new SONG,

The Diſcoverers Diſcover'd.

Fanatick Zeal, or a Looking-glaſs for the Whiggs.

A new SONG on the Old Plot.

The Whigs Downfall.

The Downfall of the Good Old Cauſe.

Jack Ke•ch's new SONG; or, a Warning to Conſpirators.

A SONG of the Light of the Nation turn'd into Darkneſs.

A new SGNG.

Oates's Bug— Bug— Boarding-School, at Camberwell.

The Royal Admiral, an excellent new SONG on His Illuſtrious Highneſs the Duke of York His •ing confirm'd High-Admiral of England.

Loyalty reſpected, and Faction confounded.

The Whiggs Diſappointment upon their intended Feaſt.

The Weſt-Country-man's SONG at a Wedding.

The Dyet of Cowley.

A Prophetical Catch.

The Couragious Loyalliſts; Or, A Health to the Royal Family

A new SONG,

Oates well Thraſh'd, being a Dialogue between a Country Farmer, and his man Jack.

The Tories Tryumph; or, the Point well weather'd.

Five Years Sham Plots Diſcovered in one True one.

On the Throat-cutter of Jack-a-napes-lane.

The Plotting-Cards reviv'd; or, The new Game at Forty-One.

The Second Part.

A Song upon Information.

A Song on the Popiſh Plot, by a Lady of Quality.

The Whigs lamentable Condition; Or, the Loyalliſts Reſolution.

The Preſent State of ENGLAND.

Raree Show; Or, The True-Proteſtant-Proceſſion.

The Pot-Companions; Or, Drinking and Smoaking preferr'd before Caballing and Plotting.

The Bully Whig; Or, The poor Whores Lamentation for the Apprehending Sir Thomas Armſtrong.

The Jealous Ladies Complaint.

ANAGRAM and ACROSTICK On the Salamanca-Sizer.

AnaTITUS OATS,JUST A SOT.gram.

An ACROSTICK

§

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A Choice Collection OF 120 Loyal Songs, All of them written ſince the Two late PLOTS, (VIZ.) The Horrid Salamanca Plot in 1678. AND THE Fanatical Conſpiracy in 1683.

Intermixt with ſome New Love SONGS With a Table to find every Song To which is added, An Anagram, and an Accroſtick ON THE Salamanca DOCTOR.

LONDON, Printed by N. T. at the entrance into the Old Spring Garden near Charing Croſs. 1684.

To the Reader.

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AMongſt the ſeveral means that have been of late years to reduce the deluded Multitude to their just Allegiance, this of BALLADS and LOYAL SONGS has not been of the leaſt influence. While the Ferguſons, and Heads of the Factions were blowing up Sedition in every corner of the Countrey, theſe flying Choriſters were aſserting the Rights of Monarchy, and proclaiming Loyalty in every ſtreet. The miſ-inform'd Rabble began to listen; they began to hear to Truth in a SONG, in time found their Errors, and were charm'd into Obedience. Thoſe that deſpiſe the Reverend Prelate in the Pulpit, and the Grave Judge on the Bench; that will neither ſubmit to the Laws of God or Man, will yet lend an itching Ear to a New [Page]SONG, nay, and often become a Convert by It, when all other means prove ineffectual. Divine Herbert has it excellently expreſt, where he ſays,

A Verſe may find him who a Sermon flies,

And turn Delight into a Sacrifice.

It cannot be imagin'd how many ſcatter'd Flocks this melodious Tingling hath reduced to their Princely Hives, who otherwiſe had never been brought under the Diſcipline of Obedience or Government.

And, without ostentation, I may ſay, I printed my News-Papers (that always▪ vindicated the King and Government) to undeceive the People, who were daily impos'd upon by Curtis, Smith, Harris, Care, Vile, Baldwin, Janeway, &c. when no body elſe would or durſt. For This the malice of the Factious Party ſwell'd ſo high against me, that They, [Page] with the aſſistance of a certain Inſtrument, (who ſwore through two Brick-walls before Oates appear'd) cauſed me to be impriſon'd ſix times, ſo that for near five years I was never free from Trouble, having ſeldom leſs than 3, or 4 Indictments at a Seſſions against Me; at other times Information upon Information in the Crown-Office, which villainous contrivances of their Agents, cost Me at laſt 500 l. in Money, beſides the loſs of My Trade and Reputation; The principal Crimes they alledged against Me, were, Let Oliver now be forgotten ▪ a Song; A Hue and Cry after T. O. when turn'd from White-Hall; The Character of an Ignoramus Doctor; A Dialogue between the Devil and the Doctor; The Priſoners Lamentation for the loſs of Sheriff Bethel; And at last for Oates's Manifeſto ▪ All which Phamphlets tended to no other evil than the laying open the [Page] Villanies of Oates and the rest of his Perjur'd Diſciples: But (thanks be to God) Tempora mutantur, &c. and Truth daily ſhines more & more.

Theſe Collections (being of ſo much uſe to detect the Scandalous Lies and Falſhoods of the Factious, and to keep the ſtrong-headed Beaſt within the Reins of Obedience) I thought fit to publiſh, that the World may ſee I have not been idle in the worſt of times, but have done my endeavour (to the utmoſt of my Talent) for the Interest of the KING and Government; which, That they may flouriſh in ſpight of all his Adverſaries, [...]s the hearty prayer of

Your moſt Humble Servant, N. T.

A Table of all the new Songs contained in this Book.

[Page]

LEt Oliver now be forgotten. Page 1.

Now, now, the Tories all ſhall ſtoop 3.

Let us advance the Good Old Cauſe. 6.

Now, now, the Zealots all must droop. 8.

Now at laſt the Riddle is expounded. 10.

Since Reformation with Whigs in faſhion▪ 13.

Rouſe up great Genius of this potent Land. 16.

Since Plotting's a Trade. 19.

Bread a Geud I think the Nation's mad. 22.

From over the Seas not long ſince there came. 26.

Hail to the Knight of the Post. 28.

Once on a time the Doctor did Swear. 31.

What ſtill ye Whigs uneaſy. 33.

Listen a while and I'll tell you a Tale. 36.

Did you not hear of a Peer that was Try'd. 39.

Tony was ſmall but of Noble Race. 42.

Old Jemmy is a Lad, &c. 44.

The Commons now are at a ſtand. 47.

Now the Tories that Glories. 48.

Rouſe up the Tories of this Factious Land. 51.

Room, Room for Cavaliers, &c. 53.

Have you not lately heard, &c. 56.

Good people of England I hope you have had 59.

Come now let's rejoyce, and the City Bells Ring. 63.

Now at l [...]ſt the matter is decided. 65.

Fill up the Bowl and ſet it round, &c. 67.

Let the Whigs repine, and Tories ſmile. 70.

Rouſe up Great Monarch in the Royal Cauſe. 73.

You Free-men and Maſters and Prentices mourn 76.

[Page]The Delights of the Bottle are turn'd out of Doors. 78.

O Poland Monſter of our Iſle. 82.

Hay Joller Ringwood and Towzer. 84▪

Ah cruel Bloudy Fate, 86.

Hail to London fair Town. 89.

Prince George at laſt is come. 91.

A Tory came late through Weſtminſter-hall. 94

The Golden Age is come. 96.

Now, now, the Plot is all come out. 99.

Let Pickering now be forgotten. 101.

Oh the mighty Innocence, &c. 103.

Bee my Shoul and Shoulwation. 106.

Whigs are now ſuch precious things. 109.

The Plot God w [...]t is all broke out. 111.

Beloved hearken all, O Hone. 113.

Wealth breeds Care, Love Hope and Fear. 115.

Hark the Thundring Cannons Roar. 117.

Let the Moors repine their hopes reſign. 119.

You Calviniſts of England. 121.

Ye Whigs and Diſſenters, I charge you attend. 125

There was a Monstrous Doctor. 127.

Chil tell thee Tom the ſtrangest Story. 130.

Twa bony Lads were Sawny and Jocky. 134▪

At Wincheſter was a Wedding▪ 136.

When Traytors did at Popery rail. 139.

Let Wine turn a Spark and Ale huff like a Hector. 142

Hark, how Noll and Bradſhaw's heads, &c. 145.

Good People I Pray give ear unto me, &c. 148.

The Second Part, Ibid. 151.

Rebellion hath broken up houſe. 155.

Remember y [...] Whigs what was formerly done. 158

Come liſten a while tho the weather be cold. 160.

I'll t [...]ll you a Tale tho before 'twas in Print. 162

[Page]When the Plot I firſt invented. 165.

I'm glad to hear the Cannons roar. 167.

Alas what is like to become of the Plot. 170.

Hells reſtleſs Factious Agents ſtill Plot on. 172.

No [...] Loyal Tories may Tryumph in Glories. 173.

[...] and Ambition alas will deceive you. 176.

[...] for great Algernoon. 177.

Joy to Great Caeſar, &c. 179.

You London Lads rejoyce, &c. 181.

Hark the Fatal day is come, &c. 185.

Hail to the Prince of the Plot. 187.

Have you heard of Forty one Sir. 189.

My Bony dear Sh [...]ny, my Crony, my Hony. 191.

From the Tap in the Guts of the Honourable ſtump. 193.

Defend us from all Popiſh Plots. 195.

From Councel of 6 where Treaſon prevails. 196.

Ye London Lads be ſorry. 198.

You Loyal Lads be merry, &c. 200.

Who would not be a Tory. 202·

Let the Whigs repine and all combine. 205.

Now the Antichriſtian crew, &c. 207.

Now, now, the bad Old Cauſe is tapt. 209.

I Hang and behead until you be dead. 212.

Come all you Caballers and Parliament Votes. 213.

'Twas a fooliſh fancy Jemmy. 215.

Rouſe, Rouſe my laiſy Myrmidons. 217.

Faction and Folly alas will deceive you. 219.

Let Canons roar from Sea to Shore. 221.

Have you heard of a Feſtival Convent. 222.

Ods hearty Wounds Iſe not to Plowing. 225.

Now by my Love the greatest Oaths, &c. 226.

O the Plot Diſcoverers. 227.

Drown Melancholy in a Glaſs of Wine. 228.

Make room for an honeſt Red-Coat. 231.

[Page]Our Oates, laſt week not worth a Gr [...]at. 234.

Some ſay, the Papiſts had a Plot. 437.

Now Innocent Blood's almoſt forgot. 236.

There is an old ſtory. 241.

Come, cut again; the Game's not done. 243.

Informing of late's a notable Trade. 246.

Since counterfeit Plots have affected this Age. 248.

The Deel aſſiſt the Plotting Whigs. 251.

Jack Presbyter's up, and hopes at one ſwoop. 253.

This is the Cabal of ſome Proteſtant Lords. 255.

Come make a good Toaſt. 257.

Ah! Cruel bloody Tom. 260.

Tell me no more there muſt be ſomething in't. 263.

Anagram and Acroſtick on the Salamanca Sizer. 264.

§

THeſe Songs you may have in a large Collection, with the Notes. Together with ſeveral Loyal Poems, Prints, and Papers upon ſeveral occaſions, at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden near Charing-Croſs; Alſo any Muſick-Books or Songs may be there Printed.

Books Printed and Sold by Nath. Thompſon ▪ at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden near Charing-Croſs.

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A Narrative of the Phanatical Plot, ſetting forth the Treaſonable and Wicked Deſigns which they have been carrying on againſt the King and Government ever ſince the laſt Weſtminſter Parliament. With an account of their Treacherous contrivances againſt ſeveral worthy perſons, and the Meaſures which was uſed to take off the Evidence by Subornation. To which is added a Relation of the evil practices of John Rouſe (who was lately executed at Tyburn) Will. Lewis (who ſtands convicted) and others. By John Zeal Gent. Price 1 s.

A Vindication of the Lord Ruſſels Speech and Innocence; in a Dialogue betwixt Whig and Tory: Being the ſame that was promiſed to the Obſervator in a Penny-Poſt Letter. Price 4 d.

Staffords Memoirs: or, a Brief and Impartial account of the Birth and Quality, Impriſonment, Tryal and Principles, Declaration, Comportment, Devotion, Last Speech and Final end of William late Lord Viſcount Stafford, beheaded on Tower-Hill Wedneſday the 29th. of December, 1680. Whereunto is annexed a ſhort Appendix concerning ſome paſſages in Stephen Colledges Tryal at Oxford. Price 1 s. 6 d.

The Lawyer Out-law'd; or, a Brief Anſwer to Mr. Hunt's defence of the Charter. With ſome uſeful Remarks on the Commons proceedings in the laſt Parliament at Weſtminſter, in a Letter to a friend. Price 6 d.

A Dialoge between the Devil & the Salamanca Dr.

A Letter to Mr. Elkana Settle, occaſioned upon his Famous Recanting and Plot-Ridiculing Narrative. Price 4. d

[Page]Some Brief Remarks on the Debates of the Houſe of Commons in the last Parliament at Oxford, &c. Price 6 d.

Oates's Manifeſto, or the complaint of Titus Oates againſt the Dr. of Salamanca: And the ſame Dr. against Titus Oates, occaſioned by ſome inconſiſtent Evidence given about the damnable Popiſh Plot. Price 6 d.

The Arraignment of Co-Ordinate-Power; wherein all Arbitrary-proceedings are laid open to all Abhorrers and Addreſſers: With a touch at the London Petition and Charter, &c. very uſeful for all Lawyers and Gentlemen▪ price 1 s.

The Genealogies of the High-born Prince and Princeſs, George ▪ and Anne, of Denmark, &c. ſhewing the Lineal Deſcent of theſe two Noble and Illuſtrious Families: with their Matches, Iſſues, Times of Death, Place of Sepulcher, Impreſſes, Devices, &c. From the year of Grace M. to this preſent year 1684. extracted from the moſt Auth [...]ntick Teſtimonies of the beſt Hyſtorians and Antiquaries of their times. Price bound 1 s.

Janu [...] Scientiarum: Or, a Compendious Introduction to Geography, Chronology, Government▪ Hyſtory, Phyloſophy; And all Gentile ſorts of Literature. price Bound 6 d.

Anima Mundi; Or, an Hyſtorical Narration of the Opinions of the Ancients concerning Man's Soul after this Life; according to un-enlightened Nature.

Great i [...] Diana of the Epheſians; Or, the Original of Idolatry; Together with the Politick Inſtitution of the Gentiles Sacrifices. Both Bound together, price 1 s. 6 d. All three written by Charles Blount Gent.

The Compleat Swearing-Maſter, &c.

The Character of an Ignoramus Doctor.

A Collection of New Loyal SONGS, Made ſince the beginning of the PLOT.

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§

The Tune, How Ʋnhappy is Phillis in Love.

1.

LEt Oliver now be forgotten,

His Policy's quite out of Dores,

Let Bradſhaw and Hewſon lie rotten,

Like Sons of Phanatical Whores:

For Tony's grown a Patrician,

By Voting damn'd Sedition,

For many years,

Fam'd Politician,

The Mouth of all Presbyter Peers.

2.

Old Tony a Turn-coat at Worſter,

Yet ſwore he'd maintain the King's Right;

But Tony did Swagger and Bluſter,

Yet never drew Sword on his ſide.

For Tony is like an old Stallion,

He has ſtill the Pox of Rebellion,

And never was ſound;

Like the Camelion,

Still changing his Shape and his Ground.

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3.

Old Rowley's return'd (Heavens bleſs Him)

From Exile and Danger ſet free;

Old Tony made haſt to Addreſs him,

And ſwore none more Loyal than he

The King, who knew him a Traytor,

And ſaw him ſquint like a Satyr;

Yet through his Grace

Pardon'd the Matter,

And gave him ſince the Purſe and the Mace.

4.

And now little Chancellour Tony,

With Honour had Feather'd his Wing,

And carefully pick'd up the Money,

But never a Groat for the King:

But Tony's Luck was confounded;

The Duke who ſmoak'd him a Round-head;

From Head to Heel

Tony was ſounded,

Great York ſoon put a ſpoke in his Wheel.

5.

But now little Tony in Paſſion,

Like Boy that had nettl'd his Breech,

Maliciouſly took an occaſion,

To make a moſt delicate Speech;

He told the King like a Croney;

If e're he hop'd to have Money,

He muſt be Rul'd:

Oh fine Tony!

Was ever Potent Monarch ſo ſchool'd?

6.

The King iſſues out a Proclamation,

By Learned and Loyal Advice;

But Tony poſſeſſes the Nation

The Councel will never be wiſe:

[Page]For Tony is madder and madder,

And Monmouth's blown like a Bladder,

And L—e too,

Who grows gladder,

That they Great York are like to ſubdue.

7.

But Deſtiny ſhortly will croſs it,

For Tony's grown Gouty and Sick,

In ſpight of his Spiggot and Fawcet

The States-man muſt go to Old Nick:

For Tony rails at the Papiſts,

Yet he himſelf is an Atheiſt;

Though ſo preciſe,

Fooliſh and Apiſh,

Like holy Quack or Prieſt in Diſguiſe.

8.

But now let this Rump of the Law ſee,

A Maxim as Learned in part;

Who e're with his Prince is too ſawcy,

'Tis fear'd he's a Traytor in's heart,

Then Tony ceaſe to be witty,

By buzzing Treaſon i'th' City;

And love the King,

So ends my Ditty,

Or elſe let him die like a Dog in a ſtring.

The Whigs Exaltation, a Pleaſant New Song,

to an Old Tune of Forty One.

1.

NOw, now the Tories all ſhall ſtoop.

Religion and the Laws,

And Whigs on Commonwealth get up

To [...]a [...] the Good Old Cauſe;

[Page] Tantivy-Boys ſhall all go down,

And Haughty Monarchy,

The [...]eathern-Cap ſhall brave the Throne;

Then Hey Boys up go we.

2.

When once that Antichriſtian Crew

Are cruſh'd, and overthrown,

We'l teach the Nobles how to bow,

And keep their Gentry down,

Good manners has a bad repute,

And tends to Pride we ſee;

We'l therefore cry all Breeding down

And Hey Boys up go we.

3

The Name of Lord ſhall be abhorr'd,

For ev'ry mans a Brother;

What reaſon's then in Church or State

One man ſhould Rule another?

Thus having Peel'd and Plunder'd all,

And level'd each Degree,

We'l make their plump young Daughters fall,

And Hey Boys up go we.

4.

What though the KING and Parliament

Cannot accord together,

We have good Cauſe to be content,

This is our Sun-ſhine weather;

For if good Reaſon ſhould take place,

And they ſhould both agree,

D'zounds who wou'd be in a Round-heads caſe?

For Hey then up go we.

5.

We'l down with all the 'Verſities

Where Learning is profeſ [...]:

[Page]For they ſtill Practice, and Maintain

The Language of the Beaſt;

We'l Exerciſe in every Grove,

And Preach beneath a Tree;

We'l make a Pulpit of a Tub,

Then Hey Boys up go we.

6.

The Whigs ſhall Rule Committee-Chair,

Who will ſuch Laws invent,

As ſhall Exclude the Lawful Heir

By Act of Parliament:

We'l cut His Royal Highneſs down,

Ev'n ſhorter by the Knee,

That He ſhall never reach the Throne,

Then Hey Boys up go we.

7.

We'l Smite the Idol in Guild-Hall,

And then (as we were wont,)

We'l cry it was a Popiſh Plot,

And ſwear thoſe Rogues have don't;

His Royal Highneſs to Un-throne

Our Intereſt will be,

For if He e're Enjoy His own,

Then Hey Boys up go we.

8.

We'l break the Windows which the Whore

Of Babylon has Painted;

And when their Biſhops are pull'd down,

Our Elders ſhall be Sainted:

Thus having quite Enſlav'd the Throne,

Pretending to ſet free,

At length the Gallows claims its own,

Then Hey Boys up go we.

An Excellent New Hymn, Exalting the Mobile to Loyalty, &c.

[Page]

To the Tune of Forty One.

1.

LEt Us advance the Good Old Cauſe;

Fear not Tantivitiers,

Whoſe Threatnings are as Senſeleſs, as

Our Jealouſies and Fears;

'Tis We muſt perfect this great work,

And all the Tories ſlay,

And make the King a Glorious Saint

The clean contrary way.

2.

It is for Liberty we Plot,

And for the Publick Good,

By making Biſhops go to pot,

And ſhedding Guiltleſs Blood;

We'l Damn the Orthodoxal Beaſt,

And their Adherents ſlay;

When theſe are down, we ſhall be bleſt

The clean contrary way.

3.

When We the King have Bankrupt lain,

Of Power and Crown bereft Him,

And all his Loyal Subjects ſlain,

And none but Rebels left him;

When we have quite undone the Land,

By Ignoramus ſway

We'l ſettle the Succeſſion, and

The clean contrary way.

4.

'Tis to preſerve His Majeſty,

That we againſt him riſe,

[Page]The Righteous Cauſe can never die

That's manag'd by the Wiſe,

Th' Aſſociation's a juſt thing,

And that does ſeem to ſay,

Who fights for us, fights for the King

The clean contrary way.

5.

Religion ſtill muſt be th' intent,

The Nations Peace and Good,

The Privledge of Parliament

So rarely Underſtood;

We'l pull the Laws and Reaſon down,

And teach men to obey

Their Sovereign, and the Rights o'th' Crown

The clean contrary way.

6.

Our Properties we'l upwards ſet,

By Impriſonment and Plunder,

And Needy Whigs Preferment get▪

To keep all Tories under:

We'l keep in Penſion Oates and Prance,

To Swear and to Betray

The Int'reſt of the King, t'Advance

The clean contrary way.

7.

What tho' the King be now miſled

By the Old Popiſh Crew?

He'l find our Honeſty has ſped,

And give us all our due;

For we (he knows) do Rail and Plot,

Rebellion to Obey,

And that we ſtand for Peace and▪ Truth

The clean contrary way.

[Page]

8.

And now my Noble Countrey-men

You cannot doubt my Zeal,

That we have ſo true and Loyal been

To King and Commonweal;

And if at laſt we chance to Hang

For what we do or ſay;

Our comfort is, to Heav'n we Gang

The clean contrary way.

A Song on His Royal Highneſs's return from Scotland.

To the Tune of, Hey Boys up go we.

1.

NOw, now the Zealots all muſt droop,

The Synagogues ſhall down,

And Truth and Loyalty get up,

The Pillars of the Throne;

The Whigs (who Loyalty forſook)

Shall with one Voice agree,

To welcom home the mighty Duke

Of York and Albany.

2.

Behold with what a Glorious Train

Of Noble Lords and Peers,

Great York is Guarded o're the Main,

In ſpight of all our Fears ▪

Our Groundleſs Doubts and Jealouſies

Of Popiſh Slavery.

For who can keep the Crowd in Peace,

But York and Albany.

[Page]

3.

The Wandring Dove that was ſent forth

To find ſome Landing near,

When Englands Ark was toſs [...]d on Floods

Of Jealouſies and Fears;

Returns with Olive Branch of Joy,

To ſet the Nation free

From Whiggiſh Rage, that wou'd deſtroy

Great York and Albany.

4·

And now He is return'd in Peace,

With all His Pompous Train,

Whom Heav'n protected o're the Seas,

To bleſs this Land again?

Let us with thankful Hearts comply,

And Joyful Harmony;

For Scotlands Hope, and Englands Joy,

Is York and Albany.

5.

Let Bumpers flow, and Bonfires blaze,

And every Steeple Ring,

To ſet forth Royal Jemmy's Praiſe,

The Brother of our King:

Let Trumpets ſound, and Cannons roar,

And with one voice agree,

Since Heav'n again has brought aſhoar

Great York and Albany.

6,

Theſe ſolemn Rights they freely gave

To ev'y Factious Brother;

Who thought the Nation to Enſlave,

And ruine one another;

To Monmouth, and each Factious Lord,

To Oates and Shaftsbury;

[Page]But thought it Treaſon to afford

To York and Albany.

7.

Now be confounded, all you Tribe

Of Ignoramus ſway;

Who by Malicious Plots contriv'd

To drive the Heir away,

(As you did once before to France)

An Exile o're the Sea;

Who (to your grief) did home advance

Great York and Albany.

8.

And may He, with the Joys He wed,

Together flouriſh ſtill;

And live to cruſh the Serpents head,

Whoſe Sting did pierce his heel,

Till Rebels tremble at his Name,

And all the Land agree,

The juſt Succeſſion to Procliam

Of York and Albany.

The Riddle of the Roundhead.

To the Tune, Now at laſt the Riddle is Expounded.

1.

NOw at laſt the Riddle is Expounded,

Which ſo long the Nation has confounded,

For the Roundhead

Begins the Game again,

Which ſo well they play'd in Forty four,

Now with greater hope;

For the fine Sham-plots will ne'r give over,

Till they piouſly have routed King and Pope.

[Page]

2.

Anthony that worm of Reformation,

Who of Commonwealth has laid Foundation,

Which the Nation

So hotly does purſue;

Let him be rewarded in the Tower,

For his Merits due:

By that buſie Plotting head laid lower,

We may perhaps eſcape what might enſue.

3.

Perkin make fine legs to the ſhouting Rabble,

Who to make him King he thinks are able;

But the Bauble

Is only ſhew'd for uſe:

The ſilly Idiot ſerves but for a Tool ſtill,

For Knaves to work their Feats,

And will remain but a dull miſtaken Fool ſtill,

For all their damn'd Cabals & Wapping Treats.

4.

The moſt zealous Parliament devoted,

For the Publick good devoutly voted,

Pray note it,

That the Duke muſt ne'er be King;

And like honeſt faithfull loyal Subjects,

His Majeſty implore,

To ſign their Pious and Religious Projects,

Or elſe the threatn'd King muſt reign no more.

5.

The renowned work of Reformation,

To be carry'd on throughout the Nation,

In a Paſſion

They Vote the Canons down:

Acts and Statutes all muſt be confounded,

Law and Juſtice too,

[Page]To make way for the proud rebellious roundhead

That they once more the Nation may undo.

6.

Lords and Biſhops both are uſeleſs Voted,

And the factious crew who gravely Plotted,

Are noted

For Lords and Commons too,

Whigs and Brumighams with ſhams and ſtories,

Are True Proteſtants,

And Proteſtants are Maſquerates and Tories,

The Modern Reformation of the Saints.

7.

Old Queen Beſs that made the beſt Indentures,

Good King Jemmy too againſt Diſsenters,

He ventures▪

To turn them out of doors;

To take in Quakers Puritans and Ranters,

The Parliament implores,

To build a Kirk of Whigs and Covenanters,

And make a Lawful Race of Sons of Whores.

8.

Rowley now with Wiſdom and grave Reaſon,

To prevent the ſwift approaching Treaſon,

In ſeaſon

Put a period to their ſtrife;

In Oxford all their ſtratagem [...] confounded,

The Roguiſh Joyner too;

And may no better Fate attend the Roundhead,

That wou'd the Church and Monarchy ſubdue.

6.

Oxford Loyal Youths who ſcorn to ſham us,

With a perjur'd Bill of Ignoramus,

Or name us

For Loyal, Traytors known;

[Page]Soon found a flaw i'th bottom of the Joyner,

By Juſtice and the Laws,

Of Church and Commonwealth an Underminer,

Who fell a Martyr in the Good Old Cauſe.

10.

Now for ſhame ye Zealots be confounded,

Boaſt no more Allegiance, ſince a Roundhead

Is grounded

Upon the Holy Sham:

How dare ye talk of Loyalty, a Hater

Of Juſtice, King and Laws,

Since the Whiggiſh Proteſtant is found a Traytor,

And dies a Martyr in the Good Old Cauſe.

Ignoramus: An Excellent Song.

To the Tune of, Lay by your Pleading

1

SInce Reformation

With Whig's in Faſhion,

There's neither Equity nor Juſtice in the Nation,

Againſt their Furies,

There no ſuch Cure is,

As lately hath been wrought by Ignoramus-Juries.

Compaction of Faction

That breeds all Diſtraction,

Is at the Zenith Point, but will not bear an Action.

They ſham us, and flam us,

And ram us, and damn us,

And then in ſpight of Law, come off with Ignoramus.

2

Oh, how they Plotted,

Brimi [...]hams Voted

[Page]And all the Mobile the Holy Cauſe promoted;

They preach'd up Treaſon,

At ev'ry ſeaſon,

And taught the Multitude Rebellion was but Reaſon,

With Breaches, Impeaches,

And moſt Loyal Speeches,

With Royal Bloud again to glut the thirſty Leeches.

They ſham us and flam us, &c.

3

'Tis ſuch a Jury

Wou'd paſs no Tory,

Were he as Innocent as a Saint in Glory:

But let a Brother

Raviſh his Mother,

Aſſaſſinate his King, he wou'd find no other.

They ſhamed, and blamed,

At Loyalliſts aimed;

But when a Whig's repriev'd the Town with Beacons flamed

They ſham us and flam us, &c.

4

This Ignoramus

With which they ſham us,

Wou'd find againſt a York, to raiſe a M—thamus

Who clears a Traytor;

And a King Hater

Againſt his Lawful Prince wou'd find ſufficient matter

They ſought it, and wrought it,

Like Rebels they fought it,

And with the price of Royal Martyrs blood they bought it▪

They ſham us, and flam us, &c.

5

At the Old-Baily,

Where Rogues flock daily,

A greater Traytor far then Coleman, White or Staley

[Page]Was late Indicted,

Witneſſes cited,

But then he was ſet free; ſo the King was righted

'Gainſt Princes, Offences

Prov'd in all ſenſes;

But 'gainſt a Whig there's no Truth in Evidences▪

They ſham us, and flam us, &c.

6

But wot you what, Sir?

They found it not, Sir;

'Twas ev'ry Jurors Caſe, and there lay all the Plot, Sir.

For at this ſeaſon,

Shou'd they do reaſon,

Which of themſelves wou'd ſcape, if they found it Treaſon?

Compaſſion in faſhion,

The Int'reſt of th' Nation

Oh, what a Godly point is ſelf-preſervation!

They ſham us, and flam us, &c.

7

'Las what is Conſcience

In Baxter's own ſenſe,

When Int'reſt lies at ſtake, an Oath and Law is Nonſenſe.

Now they will banter

Quaker and Ranter,

To find a Loyalliſt, and clear a Covenanter.

They'l wrangle and brangle,

The Soul intangle,

To ſave the Traytors Neck from the old Triangle.

They flam us, and ſham us, &c.

8

Alaſs! for pitty

Of this good City,

What will the Tories ſay in their drunken Dity?

When all Abettors.

[Page]And Monarch-haters,

The Brethren damn'd their Souls to ſave Malicious Traytors

But mind it, long winded,

With prejudice blinded,

Leſt what they did reject, another Jury find it

Then ſham us, and flam us.

And ram us, and damn us.

When againſt King and Law you find an Ignoramus

London's Loyalty,

To a Pleaſant New Tune, Call'd Burton-Hall.

1

ROwze up Great Genius

Of this Potent Land,

Leſt Traytors once more

Get the upper hand;

The Rebel Crowd their

Former Tenents own,

And Treaſon worſe than Plagues

Infect the Town:

The Sneaking Mayor

And his two Pimping Shreeves,

Who for their honeſty

No better are then Theeves;

Fall from their Sov'raigns ſide,

To Court the Mobile,

Oh! London, London,

Where's thy Loyalty?

2

Firſt, Yorkſhire Patience

Twirls his Copper Chain;

And hopes to ſee a

Commonwealth again;

The Sneaking Fool

[Page]Of breaking is affraid▪

Dares not change [...] is ſide

For fear he loſe his Trade;

Then Loyal Slingsby

Does their Fate Divine—

He that Abjur'd the King▪

Bnd all his Sacred Line,

And is ſuppos'd His Fathers

Murderer to be;

Oh! Bethel, Bethel,

Where's thy Loyalty?

3

A moſt Noto [...]ious Villain

Late was caught,

And after to the Bar

Of Juſtice brought;

But [...]lingsby pack [...]r a Jury

Of his own,

Of worſer Rogues then e're

Made Gallows groan [...]

Then Dugdales Evidence

was ſoon decry'd,

That was ſ [...] juſt, and honeſt [...]

When Old Stafford dy'd:

Now was a perjur'd Villain,

And he ly'd.

Oh! Juſtice, Juſtice,

Where's thy Equity?

4

Now Cl—ton, murmures

Treaſon, unprovok'd,

Firſt ſup'd the King, and after

Wiſh'd him choak't,

'Cauſe Danby's Place was

[Page]Well beſtow'd before,

He Rebel turns, ſeduc'd

By Scarlet Whore;

His ſawcy Pride aſpires

To High Renown,

Leather Breeches are forgot

In which he trudg [...]d to Town,

Nought but the Treaſury

Can pleaſe the ſcribling Clown

Oh! Robin, Robin,

Where [...]s thy Modeſty?

5

Pl—er now grows dull,

And pines for want of Whore;

Poor Creſwel, ſhe can take

His word no more,

Three Hundred Pounds,

Is ſuch a heavy yoak,

Which not being pay'd,

The worn out Bawd is broak,

Theſe are the Inſtruments

By Heaven ſent,

Theſe are the Saints Petition

For a Parliament:

That would for Intereſt ſake,

Deſtroy the Monarchy:

Oh! London, London,

Where's thy Loyalty?

6

Heaven Bleſs Fair England,

And i'ts Monarch here,

In Scotland, Bleſs your

High Commiſſioner,

Let Perkin his ungracious

Error ſee

[Page]And Tony ſcape no more

The Triple Tree:

Then Peace and plenty

Shall our joyes reſtore,

Villains and Factions

Shall oppreſs the Town no more.

But every Loyal Subject

Then ſhall happy be,

Nor need we care

For Londons Loyalty.

The Loyal Health. A Court Song,

to a Delicate new Tune.

1.

SInce Plotting's a Trade,

Like the reſt of the Nation:

Let 'em Lie and Swear on,

To keep up the Vocation;

Let Tinkers and Weavers,

And Joyners agree▪

To find work for the Cooper,

They'l have none of me,

Let Politick Shams,

In the States-men abound,

While we quaff off our Bumpers,

And ſet the Glaſs round:

The jolly true Toper's

The beſt Subject ſtill,

Who drinks off his Liquor,

And thinks no more ill.

[Page]

2.

Then let us ſtand to't,

And like honeſt Men fall,

Who love King and Country▪

Duke, Dutcheſs and all:

Not ſuch as wou'd blow up

The Nation by ſtealth,

And out of the flame

Raiſe a new Commonwealth:

Not ſuch, who againſt Church

And Biſhops do rage,

To advance old Jack Presbyter,

on the new Stage.

But to all honeſt Tories

Who'l fight for their King,

And to Crown the brave work,

With the Court wee'l begin.

3.

Here's a Health to the King,

And his Lawful Succeſſors

To honeſt Tantivies,

And Loyal Addreſsors;

But a pox take all thoſe,

That promoted Petitions ▪

To Poyſon the Nation,

And ſtir up Seditions ▪

Here's a Health to the Queen,

And her Ladies of Honour,

And a pox take all thoſe,

that put Sham plots upon her.

Here's a Health to the Duke,

And the Senate of Scotland,

And to all honeſt Men,

That from Biſhops ne're got-Land.

[Page]

4

Here's a Health to L'eſtrange,

And the boon Heraclitus:

And true Tory Thompſon,

Who never did ſlight us,

And forgetting Broom, Paulin,

And Alderman Wrightus,

With Tony and Bethel,

Ignoramus and Titus;

Here's a Health to the Church,

And all thoſe that are for it,

Confuſion to Zealots,

And Whigs that abhor it,

May it ever be ſafe,

From the new mode Refiners:

And may Juſtice be done

Upon Coopers and Joyners.

5.

Here's a Health to old Hall—,

Who our joys did reſtore;

And a pox take each popular

Son of a Whore;

To the Spaniard and Dane,

The brave Ruſſian and Moor,

Who come from far Nations,

Our King to adore,

To all that do Worſhip,

The God of the Vine,

And to old Jolly Bowman

Who draws us good Wine;

And as for all Traytors,

Whether Baptiſt or Whig,

May they all trot to Tyburn,

To dance the old Jig.

[Page]

6

Here's a Health to all thoſe,

Who Love the King and his Laws,

And may they near Pledge it

That Broach'd the Old Cauſe

Here's a Health to the State,

And a Plague on the Pack

Of Commonwealth Canters▪

And Presbyrer Jack;

To the uppermoſt pendent

That ever did play

On the higheſt Top-gallant

Oth' Soveraign o'th' Sea;

And he that denies

To the Standard to lore,

May he ſink in the Ocean,

And never Drink more.

The Loyal Scot; an Excellent New Song,

To a New Scotch Tune.

1.

BRed of Gued! I think the Nation's ma [...]

And nene but Knaves and perjur'd Loo [...] do rule the Roſt;

And for an honeſt Kerl ne living's to be had

Why ſure the Deel is landed on the Engl [...] Coaſt.

I ha' ne'r been here ſin' Forty Three,

And now thro' Scotland gang, to'l ſee o [...] Gracious KING;

But wunds a Gued! inſtead of Mirth an [...] Mery-glee,

I find and ſ [...]iv'ling Presbyter is coming in.

[Page]

2.

For they talk of horrid Popiſh Plots, and Heav'n knows what,

When au the wiſer World knows well what they'd be at;

For with ſike like ſeeming Sanctity the geudeſt KING

They did to Death and Ruine bring.

When on the Civil-broils they firſt did enter in,

(As well ye ken) with Popery they did begin▪

And with Liberty and Publick Geud was muckle din,

When the Deel a bit they meant the Thing.

3▪

That Machine of monſtrous Policy,

Iſe mean old Shaftsbury for Loyalty ſo [...]am'd

The voice of all the Geudly Rabble Mobile,

The fauſeſt Loon that ever Envy deſtin'd Damn'd

Heav'n ſure never meant ſo fou a thing,

But to inform the world where Villany did dwell:

And ſike a Traytor beath to Commonwealth and KING

The muckle Deel did ſurely never hatch in Hell.

4.

For, like Roman Cataline, to gain his Pious Ends,

He pimps for au the looſe Rebellious Fops in Toon:

[Page]And with Treats and Treaſon daily crams his City Friends,

From the Link [...]man to the Scarlet-Goon.

And with high Debauchery they carry on the CAUSE,

And Guedly Reformation is the Sham pretence▪

And Religiouſly defie Divine and Humane Laws,

With Obedience to their Rightful Prince.

5.

Then, as SPEAKER, to this Grand Cabal,

Old Envy Tony, ſeated at the head o [...]th' Board,

His learn'd Oration for Rebellion makes to All,

Applauded and approv'd by ev'ry Factious LORD.

Cully JEMMY then they vote for KING,

Whom Curſe confound for being ſike a ſenſeleſs Loon

Can they who did their Lawful Lord to th' Scaffold bring

Be juſt to Him, that has no Title to a Croon?

6.

But they find he's a Blockhead fitting for their Uſe,

A FOOL by Nature, and a KNAVE by Cuſtom grown.

A Gay Fop-Monarch, that the Rabble may abuſe

And their bus'neſs done, will ſoon unthrone.

And Jemmy ſwears and vows, 'gan he can get the Croon,

[Page]He by the Laws of Forty Ene will guided be:

And Prophane Lawn-ſleeves and Surplices again muſt doon,

Then hey for and PRESBYTERY.

7.

B—m a States-man would be thought,

And reaſon geud that he ſhould bear that rev'rend Name,

Since he was ene of them that firſt began the PLOT,

How he the King might Banter, and three Kingdoms Sham.

Au the Male-Contents His Noble Grace

To this Rehearſal did invite, to hear and ſee:

But, whilſt He wittily contriv'd it but a Farce,

The buſier Noddles turn'd it into Tragedy.

8.

And now each Actor does begin to play his part,

And too ſo well he cons his Geer, and takes his Cue,

Till they learn to play the Rebel ſo by rote of heart,

That the fictitious Story ſeems moſt True.

And now, without controll, they apprehend and hang

And with the Nation au is Goſpel that they ſwear:

Then, bonny Jockey, prithee back to'l Scotland gang,

For a Loyal Lad's in danger here.

The State Empirick, a New Song.

[Page]

To the Tune of, Which no body can deny.

1.

FRom over the Seas not long ſince there came,

A Doctor of moſt Notorious Fame,

If you pleaſe you may gueſs at his Ʋn-Chriſtian name.

which no body can deny.

2.

This Doctor came hither to cure three Nations.

Who were ſo ſilly as to be his Patients;

And firſt he Blooded 'em for the Faſhions.

Which no body can deny.

3.

The Med'cine he brought was called a PLOT,

Which was Compounded of the Devil knows what:

When firſt he Arriv'd it was Piping-Hot.

Which, &c.

4.

But if we may gueſs at the Damn'd Compoſition ▪

'Twas a meſs of all ſorts of Engliſh Sedition,

Made up by a Presbyterian Phyſician.

Which, &c.

5.

To make each Doſe go down the ſafer,

What do's the ſtill this Learned Gaffer,

But cover it o'r with a Papiſt [...]s Wafer.

Which, &c.

6.

As ſoon as 'twas Swallow'd, the Patient began

To Stare and to Talk like a Lunatick Man,

[Page]Of Piſtols and Daggers, to Kill and Trapan.

Which, &c.

7.

To ſome 'twas Emetick, to others Cathartick,

(I mean, to all thoſe who of it did partake,)

In ſhort, it made every Honeſt Mans heart-ake.

Which, &c.

8.

To ſay truth we were all in a filthy Condition

This voided a Libel, that Spew'd a Petition,

For which we may thank in part our Phyſician.

Which, &c.

9.

At laſt it made our Bloud ſo ferment,

That a Rancorous Sore from Men's Body's was ſent:

The Ʋlcer, I mean, of a ſtrange Parliament.

Which, &c.

10.

It's Venom upon each Member was ſhed;

The Body it almoſt had over-ſpread,

Nay, it had e [...]en like to have ſeiz'd on the Head.

Which, &c.

11.

But one wiſer then all, did giv't ſuch a Thump,

That it burſt and went out, juſt next to the Rump.

Which made with Joy ev'ry Loyal Heart Jump.

Which ▪ &c.

12.

This Ʋlcer was full of Piſtol and Sword,

With Blunderbuſs and with your things made of Board,

Your Proteſtant Flayls to Fight for the Lord.

Which, &c

[Page]

13.

O Doctor! I fear, you ſtudy'd Art Magick,

To Compaſs your Ends, which ſtill were ſo Tragick:

But now it is hop'd that we may lead You a Jig.

Which, &c.

14.

Or elſe I am ſure, without being uncivil,

A Man my believe you deal with the Devil,

For no body elſe could have wrought us

ſuch Evil. Which, &c.

15.

Your Canting was Charm, Rebellion your Witch,

With theſe you gave the Poor Rabble the Itch,

When like Emp'rick on Stage you made 'em a Speech.

Which, &c.

16.

Y'are Jilted you ſee by Faction your Whore,

Your little Tap-Pug can help you no more:

Hell ow's Both a Spite, and will pay ye the ſcore.

Which no body can deny.

Titus Tell-Troth: A Song

to the Tune of, Hail to the Myrile Shades.

1.

HAil to the Knight of the Poſt;

To Titus the Chief of the Town

Titus who vainly did boaſt

Of the Salamancha Gown;

Titus who ſaw the world o're,

From the Tower of Valadolid,

Yet ſtood in the White-horſe Door,

And ſwore to it, like the Creed.

[Page]

2.

Titus at Watton in May,

To Titus at Iſlington;

And Titus the ſelf ſame day

Both Here and There again.

Titus who never ſwore Truth,

His Politick Plots to maintain,

And never yet bawk'd an Oath,

When call'd to the Teſt again.

3.

Then Titus was Meekeſt of all,

When Never a Peny in's Purſe,

And oft did on Pickering call,

His Charity to Imburſe.

But when he ſwore Damnable Oaths,

And Lying eſteemed no Sin,

Then Titus was One of thoſe

Whom the Devil had entred in.

4.

Then Titus the Frown of Heav'n,

And Titus a Plague upon Earth;

Titus who'l ne'r be Forgiven,

Curs'd from his Fatal Birth;

Titus the Curſe and the Doom

Of the Rich and the Poor Man too;

Oh Titus, thou Shred of a Loom,

What a plague doſt thou mean to do?

5.

Titus an Orthodox Beaſt,

And Titus a Presbyter Tall;

Titus a Popiſh Prieſt,

And Titus the ſhame of all;

Titus who ne'r had the skill

The Wiſe with his Plots to deceive

[Page]But Titus whoſe Tongue can kill;

Whom Nature has made a Sla▪

6.

Titus the Light of the Town,

Where Zealots and Whigs do reſort;

Titus the Shame of the Gown,

And Titus the Scorn of the Court;

Titus who Spew'd out the Truth,

To Swallow the Covenant;

Yet never bluſh'd at an Oath,

Whom Lying has made a Saint.

7.

Yet Titus believed cou'd be

Againſt any Popiſh Lord;

Whilſt ſtill ag [...]inſt Shaftsbury

The Witneſs and Truth [...]s abhor'd;

So Titus got Credit and Gold

For Lying, an thought it no Sin;

But againſt Diſſenters bold

The Truth is not worth a pin.

8.

Thus Titus Swore on a pace,

'Gainſt thoſe whom he never did ſee;

Yet Titus with brazen Face

Wou'd our Preſerver be.

But as Titus the foremoſt in Truſt

Diſcover'd this Miſtery:

May Titus ſo be the Firſt

That leads to the Triple-Tree.

The Compleat Swearing-Maſter:

[Page]

To the Tune of, Now now the Fight's done.

1.

ONce on a time, the Dr. did Swea [...],

By the help of his Friend the Prince of the Air.

He was buſie in Conſult, one day in Spain,

And on the ſame day in England again,

And the Dr. did wear that Noble Don John,

Though little and Fair, was a tall black Man.

2.

The Dr. Swore he brought Commiſſions to Town

From Father Oliva, to men of Renown:

To raiſe mighty Force, the King to deſtroy,

For which many Ruffians the Pope did imploy;

And the Dr. did Swear that little Don John,

Was Black, and alſo a very tall Man.

3.

That forty thouſand Pilgrims there were,

Arm'd with Black Bills, that march'd in the Air

And ready to ſtrike when the Pope ſhould command,

And carry to Rome poor little England.

And the Dr. did Swear as few others can,

That little Don John is a tall black Man.

4.

And the Dr. did Swear he had Letters full many

But for all he Swore, he ne'r produc'd any,

It's much he kept none to make out the matter

But it may be he loſt them, in croſſing the Water;

But that's all one the Dr. Swore on,

That little Don John was a tall black Man.

[Page]

5.

He ſwore two hundred thouſand pounds ſent

To Ireland, which was all to be Spent:

In Squibs to burn houſes, Amunition and Bills,

And pay Popiſh Doctors for King Killing Pills:

Which he ſwore had been done if the Plot had gon on,

And then Swore Don John a very tall Man.

6.

And the Dr. did ſwear he knew not ſome men,

Yet afterwards ſwore, he knew them again;

And the Dr. did Swear by the fair candle-light

He could not diſcern a Man from a Mite:

But believe him who will, for I hardly can,

That little Don John is a tall black Man.

7.

And he ſwore he always a Proteſtant was,

And ne'r car'd a Fart for Pope or for Maſs,

And he Swore he went to St. Omers to find

What the Jeſuits had againſt England deſign'd.

And the Dr. did ſwear, deny it who can,

That little Don John was a tall black Man

8.

And the Dr. did ſwear a thouſand things more

That diſcovering the plot had made him ſo poor,

And he ſwore himſelf 700 pounds worſe,

But a pox of all lies, take that with a curſe:

But I le not beleiv't, although others can,

That little Don John is a tall black Man.

9.

Now if it ſhould pleaſe the Dr. to ſwear

To keep his hand in, a Man is a Bear;

Or the Dr. will ſwear his Soul to the Devil,

He wall do it for me, I love to be Civil;

[Page] Every man in his way, let the Dr. ſwear on,

But I beg his excuſe in the ſize of Don John.

10.

The Dr. may ſwear the Crow to be white,

Or a Pigmey to be of Gygantick height,

Or double his numbers of Pilgrims and Bills,

And ſwear them drawn up in Lincolns-Inn-fields.

I hear't and believ't as much as I can,

That little Don John is a tall black Man,

11.

There's no ſtopping the tide, let the Dr. ſwear on.

The black is the fair, or the fair the black Man,

Or ſwear what he will I care not a T—,

I'de as ſoon as his, take another mans word:

So Dr. be damn'd and Swear all you can,

Don John is not tall, nor yet a black Man:

A Tory in a Whig's Coat:

To the Tune of, Ʋp with Aley, &c.

1.

WHat! ſtill ye Whigs uneaſie!

Will nothing coll your Brain,

Unleſs Great Charles, to pleaſe-ye,

Will let ye drive his Wain?

Then up with Prance and Oats,

And up with Knaves a pair;

But down with him that Votes

Againſt a Lawful Heir.

2.

Your Grievance is remov'd,

Old Staufford's made a Saint,

[Page]Though you but little prov'd,

The Karle away you ſent.

Then up with all your ſpight,

And ſhevv us vvhat you mean;

I fear me, by this Light,

Ye long to vent your Spleen.

3.

That Peerleſs Houſe af Commons.

So zealous for the Lord,

Meant (piouſly) vvith ſome on's

To fleſh the Godly Sword:

Then up vvith au the Leaven,

With each Diſſenting Loon,

Then up with Bully Stephen;

But Colledge is gone doon.

4.

What wou'd thoſe Loons have had?

What makes 'em ſtill to mutter?

I think thy're au gone mad,

They keep ſo muckle clutter:

Then up with Pilk and Sute,

Another Bleſſed Pair;

And up with e'ry Brute;

But chiefly Goatham's Mayo ▪

5.

Our Salamancha-Prieſt

Has left his Flock in haſt;

And ſhrevvdly is he miſt;

Which makes us all gaſt:

Then up vvith Lads of vvorth,

With Baldwin, V [...]le and Care;

For theſe muſt novv hold forth,

And Dick ſhall noſe a Pray'r.

[Page]

But is our Parſon gone;

And whither gone I trow?

What, back agen to Spain?

Gued Faith e'n let him go:

Then up with blundering S.

The Tories Plague, I trow;

'Tis he our Cauſe muſt bleſs

With Characters, and ſo.—

7.

But ſcurvy Heraclitus,

And Roger too is rude,

And Nat, who plagues poor Titus,

Which makes us chew the Cud:

Then up with Aſsociations,

Remonſtrances and Libels;

'Tis theſe muſt ſave Three Nations,

And will preſreve our Bibles

8.

The Popiſh Fox does ſeem

To ſleep his time away;

But his pernicious Dream

Is only to Betray:

Then up with How. the Mole,

And many more that be;

But up with Little Pole

Upon the higheſt Tree.

9.

Hieraclitus is a Debtor,

To ſome within the City,

Who ſent him ſike a Letter,

He'l pay them in a Ditty:

Then up with au Diſsenters,

Up with 'em in a Cart:

And up with him that ventures

His Majeſty to thwart.

[Page]

10.

But now Great YORK is come,

(Whom Heaven ſtill be with)

You'll find (both all and ſome)

'Twas ill to ſhew your Teeth:

Then up with e [...]ry Round-head,

And e'ry Factious Brother,

You're Luck is now confounded.

Ye au muſt up together.

The Proteſtant FLAYL:

To the Tune of, Lacy's Maggot; Or, The Hobby-Horſe.

1.

LIſten a while, and I'l tell you a Tale

Of a new Device of a Proteſtant Flayl;

With a Thump, Thump, Thump, a Thump,

Thump, a Thump, Thump.

This FLAYL it was made of the fineſt vvood,

Well lin'd vvith Lead, and notable good,

For ſplitting of Brains, and ſhedding of bloud

Of all that withſtood,

With a Thump, Thump, &c.

2.

This Flayl vvas invented to thraſh the Brain,

And leave behind not the vvait of a grain,

With a Thump, &c.

At the handle-end there hung a Weight,

That carried vvith it unavoidable Fate,

To take the Monarch a rap in the Pate,

And govern the State.

With a Thump, &c.

[Page]

3.

It took its degree in Oxford-Town,

And with the Carpenter went down,

With a Thump, &c.

If any durſt his Might oppoſe,

He had you cloſe, in ſpight of your Noſe,

To carry on clever the Good Old Cauſe,

And down with the Laws,

With a Thump, &c.

4

With this they threatned to fore-ſtall

The Church, and give the Biſhops a Mawl

With a Thump, &c.

If King and Lords would not ſubmit

To the Joyner's will while the Houſe did ſit,

If this in the right place did hit,

The cauſe it would ſplit,

With a Thump, &c.

5.

Two handfuls of Death, with a Thong hung faſt,

By a Zealot who hang'd himſelf at laſt,

With a Thump, &c.

With a moving head both ſtiff and ſtout,

Found by the Proteſtant Joyner out,

To have at the King & the Laws t'other bout▪

And turn them both out,

With a Thump, &c.

6.

Invinſibly 'twou'd deal his Blovvs,

All to maintain the Good Old Cauſe,

With a Thump, &c

Wou'd Liberty and Freedom bring

To every thing except the King,

At Monarchy it had a fling,

[Page]And took its ſvving,

With a Thump, &c.

7.

This Flayl vvas made of the Nevveſt Faſhion,

To heal the Breaches of the Nation,

With a Thump, &c.

If Faction any difference bred,

T [...]vvon'd ſplit the Cauſe in the very Head,

Till Monarchy reel'd, and Loyalty bled,

And vvere knock'd in the Head,

With a Thump, &c.

8.

When any Strife vvas in the State,

This Flayl vvou'd end the vvhole Debate,

With a Thump, &c.

'Gainſt Arbitrary Power of State,

And Popery vvhich the Zealots hate,

It vvou'd give them ſuch a Rap on the Pate,

They muſt yield to their Fate,

With a Thump, &c.

9.

It had a thouſand Virtues more,

And had a Salve for every Sore,

With a Thump, &c.

With this they thought to have maintain'd,

The Loyal Tribe, and Royaliſts brain'd:

But the Joyner vvas hang'd, and the Flayl vvas Arraign [...]d

And the Conqueſt Regain'd,

With a Thump, &c.

10.

May Tony and all our Enemies,

Meet vvith no better Fate then his,

With a Thump, &c.

[Page]May Charles ſtill live to Rule the State,

And York, (vvhom all Diſsenters hate)

To be reveng'd upon their Pate,

By timely fate,

With a Thump, Thump, Thump a Thump,

Thump, a Thump, Thump.

IGNORAMUS [...]Juſtice,

To the Tune of, Sir Egledemore.

1.

DId you not hear of a Peer that was Try'd?

With a fa▪ la, la, la, la.

That looks like a Cask with a Tap in his ſide;

With a fa, la, la, la, la.

This Noble Peer to the Bar was call'd;

The Witneſſses ſworn, but the Fore-man outbaul'd;

With a fa, la, la, la, la.

2.

Then up Sir Samuel did ſtart;

With a fa, la, &c.

And found the Bill not worth a F—;

With a fa, la, &c.

With that the Court kept ſuch a ſtir,

The Fore-man ſhould prove ſo ſ [...]yll a Sir,

With a fa, la, &c.

3.

The Witneſſes for the King ſwore plain;

With a fa, la, &c.

But had they been as many again;

With a fa, la, &c.

The Jury before ſuch Truths receiv'd,

Nor them, nor St. Peter they wou'd have believ'd;

With a fa, la, &c.

[Page]

4.

The Witneſſes brought him a Traytor in;

With a fa, la, &c.

But the Jury found it another thing;

With a fa, la, &c.

For he who did ſtill his King oppoſe,

Is made a true Subject in ſpight of the Laws;

With a fa, la, &c.

5.

Thus this Great Lord of High Renown;

With a fa, la, &c.

Th' Exalted Idol of the Town;

With a fa, la, &c.

Is clear'd by Ignoramus-ſway,

For Betraying the Church and the King in a day,

With a fa, la, &c.

6.

The Rabble to ſhew their Loyalty;

With a fa, la, &c.

Did in full ſhouts with the Jury agree;

With a fa, la, &c.

They Bonfires made with great applauſe,

And all to maintain the Good Old Cauſe;

With a fa, la, &c.

7.

And now in ſpight of King and Queen;

With a fa, la, &c.

More Jollity was in the Streets to be ſeen;

With a fa, la, &c.

Then on the Twenty Ninth of May,

Though it was the Reſtauration-day;

With a fa, la, &c.

[Page]

8.

Another paſſage I chanc [...]d to hear;

With a fa, la, &c.

That the Doctor is fallen from the Front to the Rear;

With a fa, la, &c.

He to the Saints does now incline,

Abjures the King, with the Rebels Combines;

VVith a fa, la, &c▪

9.

Yet theſe pretend now for to Inherit;

VVith a fa, la, &c.

(As Heirs do Eſtates) the Light of the Spirit;

VVith a fa, la, &c.

Yet let them ſay or do what they will,

They'l find themſelves Ignoramus ſtill;

VVith a fa, la, &c.

10.

But had it been a Popiſh Lord;

VVith a fa, la, &c.

One Witneſs then had ſerv'd in a word;

VVith a fa, la, &c.

They had not then enquir'd ſo far;

But found it, and never have ſtept from the Bar

VVith a fa, la, &c.

11.

If by this Law the Charter be loſt;

With a fa, la, &c.

Will Tony's Eſtate repay all the Coſt?

With a fa, la, &c.

The Boys will then find out the Cheat.

And de De Witt the old Cam [...]al in his Retreat;

With a fa, la, &c.

[Page]

12.

They'l Curſe that Pate that ſtudied to bring;

With a fa, la, &c.

Plague to the Country, and Ruine to th' King;

With a fa, la, &c.

Diveſted thus of Citophel's Pride,

They'l do him that Juſtice which Juries deny'd

With a fa, la, &c.

The Loyal Feaſt [...];

to the Tune of Sawney will never be my Love again.

1.

TONY was ſmall, but of Noble Race,

And was beloved of ev'ry one;

He Broach'd his Tap, and it ran apace

To make a Solemn Treat for all the Town

He ſent to Yeoman, Knight, and Lord,

The Holy Tribe to Entertain

With all the Nation cou'd afford,

But Tony will never be himſelf again.

2.

He ſent to the Shambles for all their Store,

And left behind neither Fowl nor Beaſt;

The Spiggot ran ſwift and fain wou'd do more

To make all the Lords a Noble Feaſt;

He ſent to Market, ſent to Fair,

His Loyal Gueſts to entertain,

But of the Banquet he had no ſhare,

And Tony will never be himſelf again.

3.

At two great Halls in London Town,

Deſign'd to meet a Zealous Crew

Of Lords and Knights of High Renown,

And all were Proteſtants True Blue.

[Page]They threw in Guineys free as Braſs,

The Noble Frolick to Maintain,

But on Great Charles the Sham wou'd not paſs

And Tony will &c.

4.

With Duty to their Lawful Prince,

A Loyal Subject every one;

To pray for him is the Pretence,

And then to Rail and Plot againſt the Crown

From Church they did intend to th' Hall,

Their Noble Gueſts to Entertain;

But they were Routed, Horſe and all,

And Tony &c.

5.

In favour of the King and Duke,

The Heir-Apparent of the Throne,

His Highneſs they Exclude, and took

A Fop-Pretender of their own;

The meek Guide Moſes they withſtand,

A Golden Calf to Entertain;

But Royal Charles he diſpers'd the Band,

And Tony, &c.

6.

The Bloody Papiſts ſhall no more

Contrive againſt his Life and Reign:

Tho' it was themſelves did the Feat before,

And are as ready to do't again.

Thus they Exclude the Rightful Heir,

The Gaudy Fop to Entertain,

But they were met by the good Lord Mayor,

And Tony &c.

7.

With thanks and Pray'rs for our good King

They Vow'd to Sacrifice the Day;

[Page]But Royal Charles he ſmoak'd out the thing;

And ſent the Rable with a Pox away.

He ſent his Summons to the Cit,

Seditious Meetings to Reſtrain,

The Feaſt was broke, and the Gueſts were beſh—,

And Tony &c.

8

And now the Capons flye about,

With Frigaces of Ambergreece,

And Chickens ready dreſt they Shout

About the Street for pence a piece:

The Whigs did wiſh the Council choak'd,

Who did this Noble Feaſt reſtrain;

All down in the Mouth to be thus bawk'd,

Poor Tony will never be himſelf again.

Old Jemmey.

Tune of, Young Jemmey.

1.

OLd Jemmy is a Lad

Right lawfully deſcended;

No Baſtard born nor bred,

Nor for a Whig ſuſpended:

The true and Lawful Heir to th' Crown,

By Right of Birth and Laws,

And bravely will maintain his own,

In ſpight of all his Foes.

2.

Old Jemmy is the Top

And Chief amongſt the Princes;

No Mobile gay Fop,

With Brimigham pretences:

A Heart and Soul ſo wondrous great

And ſuch a conqu'ring Eye,

That every Loyal Lad fears not

In Jemmy's Cauſe to die.

[Page]

Old Jemmy is a Prince

Of Noble Reſolutions.

Whoſe Powerful influence

Can order our Confuſions:

But Oh! He fights with ſuch a Grace

No Force can him withſtand;

No God of War but muſt give place

Where Jemmy leads the Van

4.

To Jemmy every Swain

Does pay due Veneration;

And Scotland does maintain

His Title to the Nation:

The Pride of all the Court he ſtands

The Patron of his Cauſe,

The Joy and Hope of all his Friends

The terrour of his Foes.

5.

Maliciouſly they Vote,

To work Old Jemmy's Ruin,

And zealouſly promote

A Bill for his undoing:

Both Lords and Commons moſt agree

To pull His Highneſs down;

But ('ſpight of all their Policy)

Old Jemmy's Heir to th' Crown.

6.

The Schiſmatick and Saint,

The Baptiſt and the Athieſt,

Swear by the Covenant,

Old Jemmy is a Papiſt;

Whilſt all the Holy Crew did plot

To pull His Highneſs down,

Great Albany a Noble Scot

Did raiſe unto a Crown.

[Page]

7.

Great Albany they ſwear,

He before any other,

Shall be immediate Heir

Unto His Royal Brother,

Who will in ſpight of all his Foes,

His Lawful Rights maintain,

And all the Fops that interpoſe,

Old Jemmy's York again.

8.

The Whigs and Zealots Plot

To baniſh him the Nation,

But the Renowned Scot

Hath wrought his Reſtauration.

With high reſpects they treat his Grace

His Royal Cauſe maintain;

Brave Albany (to Scotland's Praiſe)

Is Mighty York again.

9.

Againſt his envious Fates

The Kirk hath taught a Leſſon;

A Bleſſing on the States,

To ſettle the Succeſſion.

They real were, both Knight and Lord

And will his Rights maintain;

By Royal Parliament reſtor'd,

Old Jemmy's come again.

10.

And now He's come again,

In ſpight of all Pretenders,

Great Albany ſhall Reign

Amongſt the Faiths Defenders.

[Page]Let Whig and Brimigham repine;

They ſhew their Teeth in vain;

The Glory of the Brittiſh Line,

Old Jemmy's come again.

The Honour of Great York and Albany,

to a new Tune.

1.

THe Commons now are at a ſtand,

And evermore I hope ſhall be;

For Scotland will be a help at hand,

For Great James Duke of Al-ba-ny.

For Scotland,

2.

A braver Nation he can't have,

For Love, for Truth, for Loyalty;

Each Man will Fight into his Grave,

For great James Duke of Albany.

Each man, &c.

3.

A Souldier ſtout is he, and brave,

As ever any man did ſee,

God bleſs the King, and Queen, and Save

Our Great James, Duke of Albany,

God bleſs, &c.

4.

He very Wiſe, and Pious is,

There's no Man knows the Contrary;

Then Damn'd be him that thinks amiſs,

Of Great James Duke of Albany.

Then Damn'd &c.

5▪

All Loyal Subjects him muſt love,

The Heir Apparent, ſtill is he,

[Page]Next to the King, there's none above

Our Great James Duke of Albany.

Next to the King, &c.

6.

Then let our Reaſon our ill Will ſway,

And every man upon his Knee,

I do not mean to drink, but Pray,

For Great James Duke of Albany.

I do not mean, &c.

7.

There's no man is ſo mad to think,

That Drinking can availing be,

'Tis better for to Fight than Drink,

For Great James Duke of Albany.

'Tis better, &c.

8.

Yet do not think I'll bawk his Health,

But with my cup, moſt moderately,

I'll drink, I'll fight, and ſpend my wealth,

For Great James Duke of Albany.

I'll Drink, I'll fight, and ſpend, &c.

The Well-wiſhers to the Royal Family.

To a New Tune.

1.

NOw the Tories, that Glories

In Royal Jemmy's return,

The Tavern ſhall Roar it and Score it,

Your Caps and Bonnets burn:

Let the Lads and Laſſes

Set foot foot in their Turn;

And he that paſſes his Glaſſes,

May he never Scape the Horn:

[Page]Royal James is come again,

There's for honeſt men room again,

The true Heir is come again;

Fop Pretenders we ſcorn,

Then Hey Boys laugh it, and quaff it,

Let Whigs and Zealots mourn.

2.

Let Impeaches and Speeches

Be with the Authors pull'd down;

And all that Preaches or Teaches

Againſt the Heir of the Crown:

No more the Zealous ſhall tell us

Of the Succeſſion of the Throne;

Till the Rebellious ſo Zealous,

His lawful Intereſt own:

Monarchy is got up again,

Every Man take his Cup again,

Till we make the Whigs ſtoop again:

Who our Peace wou'd enthrall:

And every Rebel that Libel'd,

Do at his Foot ſtool fall,

3.

Let's be Loyal and Joy-al,

Spite of each Factious Caball,

Who daily deny all, defie all,

That we can Loyalty call;

Who Smoaking, and Soaking,

With the return of the Rump,

Sadly Looking, ſit Croaking,

To ſee it Wore to'th' Stump;

Then ſet the Glaſs Round again,

For our time let's not ſpend in vain,

But let us now Drink a Main,

Fill it up to the Brim:

[Page]Come round Boys let's Trowl it & Bowl it,

Till our Joys they do ſwim.

4.

For Him our Choices and Voices,

Shall all hereafter be free,

Whilſt each one Rejoyces, our Noiſes

Shall defend the Raging o'th Sea;

We'l attend him, befriend him,

Let Malice Vote what it will;

Coyn we'l Lend Him, Defend Him,

And we'l rejoyce in Him ſtill:

Then let us no Mirth refrain,

Since that now he is ſafe again,

Well having eſcap'd the Main;

From the Salt Waters ſet free,

Then Hey Boys laugh it, and quaff it,

And let us Mery be.

5.

Though the Zealous, grow Jealous,

And Create much needleſs fear,

By which means they'd Drill us and Will us.

Like themſelves to appear;

But no Wonder, ſince Plunder,

Is that at which they aim,

That the Whigs wander under

Religious Guile, which they Shame:

But at laſt we have found them,

And from the bottom unwound them,

So that each man may found them,

And laugh at the Old Cauſe,

Which was the Ruine and undoing,

Of King and Kingdoms Laws.

6.

Then let's Rout 'em and Flout 'em,

Who rails at the Succeſſion,

[Page]That would Rout Him whom we ſo eſteem,

Beyond all Expreſſion;

Fill Clarret, who's for it?

And let each Bumper go round,

Who doth bar it, or ſpare it

May he with Goats Horns be Crown'd:

Here's a Health to the Dutcheſs,

Grant her long Life, Health, and Riches,

And a Young Prince is all our wiſhes,

Whilſt all the Factious Repine

Then come away wi't, ne'r ſtay it,

Let no man baulk his Wine.

London's Joy and Loyalty On His Royal Highneſſes Return from Scotland.

1.

ROuze up ye Tories

Of this Factious Land,

Now Loyalty

Hath got the Upper-hand:

The Rabble-rout

Their Errours ſhall diſclaim,

And Homage pay

To York's Illuſtrious Name;

The London Mayor

Is faithful to his Truſt,

And the two preſent Sh'riffs

Wou'd fain be counted Juſt;

And every Factious Rebel

Through the Town agree

To ſhew the heighth

Of London's Loyalty.

[Page]

2.

Now the loud Threatning

Tempeſt is diſpers'd,

And all their ſhamming Plots

Are quite revers'd;

Great Jemmy's happy

Reſtauration here

Makes a new day

In London [...]s Hemiſphere:

The Clouds are gone

That did oppreſs his Reign,

And joyful day breaks forth

In this glad Land again.

Then to the Mighty Duke

Of York and Albany

Now London, London,

Shew thy Loyalty.

3.

A Royal Pair

With their Illuſtrious Train,

To London's Joy

Are now Return'd again;

Great Gracious Charles

Does in the Front appear,

And Princely York

Advances in the Rear;

The Right Succeſſor

Is Return'd again,

Whom former Faction

Sent an Exile o'r the Main,

Then to the Mighty Duke

Of York and Albany

Now London, London

Shew thy Loyalty.

[Page]

4.

Heave'n Bleſs the King,

Preſerve the Lawful Heir,

Let [...]ories Sing,

And Brimighams Deſpair:

To ſee Great York

Inveſted in his own,

Spight of all Fop

Pretenders to the Throne;

Then Truth and Juſtice

Shall our Joys reſtore;

Aſſociations ſhall

Deſtroy our Peace no more,

But to our Gracious King,

With York and Albany

All Subjects ſeek▪

To ſhew their Loyalty.

The Tory Song on His Highneſs Return from Scotland.

To the Tune of, The Prince of Orange's Delight.

1.

ROom, room for Cavaliers, bring us more Wine,

His Highneſs is Landed, about with the Glaſs;

The Brimigham-piece is but Counterfeit Coyn

Yet fain for good Sterling among as wou'd paſs.

Hey Bowman more Wine,

Fill up to the Brim;

While Zealots repine

We'll frolick and ſing;

[Page]For Oats, is confounded,

That Turn-coated Round-head;

Then let us be Loyal, and true to our King:

2.

A little Old Conjurer threw ſo much Braſs,

And Pewter and Copper amongſt the True Coyn

That hardly a Peny of Money can paſs,

But what is Clipt, Plated, or waſh'd very fine

But thine Boy, and mine,

Bears the ſtamp of the King;

Then let's have more Wine,

While good Money we bring;

John Thum is confounded,

That Brazen-fac'd Round-head;

Then let us be Loyal, and True to our King.

3.

With ſuch a Bold, Impudent and Brazen-face

They'd paſs for true Mettle, although but waſh'd o'r;

The Kings Stamp & Image they only diſgrace

As they did their Lord and Creators before;

But thine Boy, and mine,

Bears the ſtamp of the King,

Then let's have more Wine,

While good Money we bring;

For Care is Confounded,

That Sciſmatick Round-head;

Then let us be Loyal, and True to our King.

4.

Yet (what is moſt noted) theſe Brimigham Elves,

To bear the true ſtamp are ſo brazen'd with Art,

That they wou'd have nothing to paſs but themſelves,

[Page]Although they're but Copper and Gaul at the heart.

But thine Boy, and mine,

Bears the ſtamp of the King,

Then let's have more Wine,

While good Sterling we bring;

For Dick is confounded,

That Libelling Roundhead,

Then let us be Loyal, and true to our King.

5.

They call themſelves Loyal, nay more, love the King

Yet Royaliſts, Tory and Papiſt miſ call;

And rail at all thoſe who ſtand up for the thing,

With L'ſtrange, Heraclitus and Thompſon, & all

Gainſt theſe the Slaves

Their Libels they fling;

Yet they are the Knaves,

That do Libel the King;

But Langley's confounded,

That Pamphletting Roundhead;

Then let us be Loyal, and true to our King.

6.

Thus Brimighams ſtill the Stamp Royal rebukes

With Brazen-fac'd Impudence guided ſo fine

Who hates the King's Picture as well as the Dukes,

And loves it in nothing, unleſs in his Coyn;

But let him ſtill paſs

For a counterfeit thing,

About with the Glaſs,

And merrily ſing;

For Ben is confounded;

That Cuckoldly Round-head;

Then let us be Loyal, and true to our King.

[Page]

To the King and the Queen, fill it up to the Top.

The D. & the Dutcheſs, whom Heav'n has reſtor'd;

And next, Hans in Kelder, the Royal Blew-Cap;

To all the true Iſſue and each Loyal Lord:

Crown every Glaſs,

Fill 'em up to the Brim:

About let 'em paſs,

While we merrily ſing;

For Baldwin's confounded,

That impudent Round-head;

Then let us be Loyal, and true to our King.

8.

To brave Albemarle the next we'l purſue,

With Worſter and Clarendon, Seymour, and Hall—

To all to their King, and their Country are true,

Who Loyalty love, and confound the Caball.

If Monarchy ſhine,

And Bowman but bring

Good ſtore of brisk Wine,

We'l make the Dog ring;

For Tony's confounded,

That Spiggoted Round-head;

Then let us be Loyal, and true to our King.

The PLOT Cram'd into Jones Placket

to the Tune of, Jones Placket is torn, &c.

1.

HAve you not lately heard

of Lords ſent to the Tower,

[Page]Who 'gainſt the Popiſh Plotters,

ſeem'd men of chiefeſt power:

But now they're got into the Plot,

and all their power's in vain,

For the Plot is rent and torn,

and can never be mended again,

'Tis rent and torn, and torn and rent,

and rent and torn in twain:

For the Plot is rent and torn,

and will never be mended again.

2.

Fitz-Harris they ſuppos'd

a ſitting Inſtrument,

The Duke, the Queen, and King

himſelf to circumvent:

But now he's hang'd and all his Gang

will follow the ſame ſtrain,

For the Plot is rent and torn,

and will never be mended again, &c.

3.

The Joyner he did march

to Oxford, to be Try'd,

Where he did find a Jury,

who were not Whiggify'd:

And for his Joyning in the Plot,

a Halter he did gain,

For the Plot is rent and torn▪

and will never be mended again, &c.

4.

They ſay that Mr. Dugdale,

ſo honeſt and ſo true,

Is one of the King [...]s Evidence,

againſt this wicked Crew:

[Page]And now they aim him to defame,

but all will be in vain,

For the Plot is rent and torn,

and will never be mended again, &c.

5.

The crafty Shaftsburyy,

is caught in his own Snare,

He has hired many Rogues,

themſelves for to forſwear:

Are now undone, with Hetherington,

and all his hired Train,

For the Plot is rent and torn

and will never be mended again, &c.

6.

Thus Innocence we ſee

begins for to appear,

Since Rogues for want of Pardons,

the Truth are fain to ſwear:

Had it been ſo, ſome years ago,

we'd hit on the right vein,

For the Plot is rent and torn,

and will never be mended again ▪ &c.

7.

The pious Commons Vote

it was a Popiſh Plot,

Which Factious Lords promote,

'twas death to think it not;

Thus piouſly they all agree

a Plot for to maintain,

But now ' [...]is rent and torn,

and will never be mended again, &c.

8.

Againſt the Lawful Heir,

full many a Bill they paſs

[Page]Upon the Royal Chair

to place a gawdy Aſs;

But they may ride to'th Devil aſtride

with Noll new Plots to feign,

For the Plot is rent and torn,

and will never he mended again, &c.

9.

When they cou'd rail no more

of pious Lords and Peers,

To ſet them as before

together by the Ears;

To Shrives and Mayor they made this Prayer,

they wou'd the Plot maintain,

But now 'tis rent and torn,

and will never be mended again, &c.

10.

Brave Rich and Famous North,

(whom Factions did oppoſe)

For Loyalty and Worth,

The Noble Mayor has choſe,

Who hand in hand will faithful ſtand

to Royal Charles's Reign,

For the Plot is rent and torn,

and will never be mended again.

'Tis rent and torn, and torn and rent;

and rent and torn in twain.

For the Plot is rent and torn,

and will never be mended again.

The Happy return of the Old Dutch Miller.

To the Tune of the First.

1.

GOod People of England I hope you have had

Experience of my Art in my Trade;

[Page]For I am the Miller that was here before,

That ground Women young, of four or five Score.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, bring in your Tribes;

Il'e quickly diſpatch them without any Bribes.

For I am ſo Zealous for Whiglanders Crew

Il'e cure their Diſtempers with one Turn or Two.

2.

And now (for your comfort) I am come again

To cure the defection amongſt all your Men;

Whether they be Factious, Stupid or Lame;

Let's ſee e're a Chymiſt that can do the ſame.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

3.

If you have e're a City that's troubl'd with Simples;

That's over-rich grown, and has Rebellious pimples

I'le ſtrip it of all theſe defects in an hour,

And make it ſubmit to the King or the Tower.

Then come away Cuſtomers, &c.

4.

If any pretending Whigg Sheriffs yet dare,

(In the year of his Office) Arreſt the Lord Mayor;

Let them come to my Mill, if their Inſolence muſt

Be taken a Peg lower, I'l Grind them to Duſt

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

5.

If any Grave Alderman Perjures and Swears,

Till he runs the great hazard of looſing his Ears.

Let him bring but his Toll, and to cover his Shame

I'le hide him i'th Hopper, and Dip him i'th' Dam▪

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

[Page]

6.

If any Hot Zealots, or Turbulent Cits,

With Tumults & Riots run out of their Wits;

For the Toll I'l ſo Tame 'em, that they ſhall be all

Like Flour of Patience, I'l Grind 'em ſo ſmall.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

7.

If you have e're a Fop that's proud of a String,

And fain would aſpire to the Throne of a King

Bring him to my Mill, I will preſently ſhow

If he's qualified for a Monarch, or no.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

8.

If you have e're a Lord that's a Pimp to's Wife,

And to hide his Horns would venture his Life:

Send her to my Mill. I'll venture a Tryal,

To make Her as Honeſt as e're He was Loyal.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

9.

If you have e're a Slabbering Lord that's a Fool,

And ſits in Cabals 3 Kingdoms to Rule,

And ſtands for a States-man, I'll make him as able

As ever a Helper in all his own Stable

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

10.

If you have e're a Lord that uſed to Preach

I' [...]h' top of a Crab Tree, above all your reach,

And ſtill the Lords Super expos'd in Lambs wool:

ſend him to my Mill, I'll Reform his Skull:

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

11.

If you have [...]'re a Knight that's a Knave and Thred-bare,

[Page]That deals in Neck-laces and ſuch kind of ware:

And ſtole the beſt Plot, now hides it in Briſtol:

Bring him to my Mill, I'll make him confeſs't all.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

12.

If you have, or had, any Sheriffs that are Whigs,

That have cut off ſome Heads, and are cutting off Legs.

Bring them, and their Perjur'd Juries together,

I'll turn 'em all round in my Mill with the Weather.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

13.

If you have e're a Doctor that has ne'r a Mouth,

But a Hole in the place for a Noſe, Nor. & South

Put him to my Mill, I ſhal make him ſpeak ſenſe

Behind and before, like a Quaker in Trance.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

14.

If He has been Perjur'd ten thouſand times o're,

And for want of Imployment begins to grow poor;

I'll make him as Rich (if he knows his own Name)

As when he came Mumping from Flanders or Spain.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

15.

If Forty Religions he dares to Believe,

And yet Preacheth Blaſphemy Fools to deceive:

Bring him to my Mill, with more of the Griſt,

I'll make him a Devil, a Man or a Beaſt.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, &c.

16.

If you have any Plots, either Sham ones or True ones,

Bring out the Contrivers, both black ones & ble [...] ones.

I'll either Refine 'em from all their paſt Ill,

[Page]Or elſe I will ſtrangle them All in my MILL.

Then make haſt Cuſtomers, bring in your Tribes,

I'll quickly diſpatch them without any Bribes;

For I am ſo Zealous for Whiglanders Crew,

I'll cure their Diſtempers with one Turn or two.

A Congratulation on the Happy Diſcovery of the Helliſh Fanatick Plot.

Tune, Now, now the Fight's done.

1.

COme now let's rejoyce, and the City Bells ring,

And the Bonfires kindle, whilſt unto the King ▪

We pay on our knees the grand tribute that's due,

Of thanks and oblation, which now we renew,

For Mercies that we have received of late,

From Prudence and Juſtice diverting our Fate.

2.

The Curtain is drawn, and the Clouds are diſperſt;

The Plot's come to light, that in darkneſs did neſt,

Jack Calvin's diſplay'd with his Colours in grain:

And who were the Traytors and Villains 'tis plain:

The Traps that they laid, and the ſnares that they ſet,

Have caught them at laſt in their own ſilly Net

3.

The Foreman himſelf, that off-ſpring of Hell,

In whoſe wick'd Breaſt all Treaſon doth dwel,

To the Tower was ſent, with his Triple Name,

Whilſt the Triple-tree groans for his Carcaſs again,

[Page]And many Rogues more their Leader will follow

Unto the ſame place, whilſt we whoop and hallow.

4.

The Libelling tribe that ſo long have reign'd

And ſow'd Sedition, ſhall now be Arraign [...]d;

Their Shams and their Lies ſhall do them no good,

When they come to the tree, there's no ſhamming that wood:

Janway and Curtis in the forlorn hope,

Then Vile, Smith and Care ſhall neck the next Rope.

5

So, ſo, let them dye that would Monarchs deſtroy,

And ſpit all their Venom our Land to annoy:

If that their Pow [...]r were to their Malice equal,

And their Courage the ſame, they'd ſoon ruine all▪

But their Courage is low, and their Power but ſmall;

Their Treaſon is High, and muſt have a Fall.

6.

When Trojans of old (our Anceſtors) were

In danger of Shipwrack, & toſs'd here & there

Great Neptune ſoon quell'd thoſe Rebels and Storms,

With brandiſhed trident, and free'd them from harms;

They [...]led from his Face, through guilt of their Cauſe,

As theſe from our Lion, if he ſtretch out his paws.

7.

Go Devils, be gone to the Region below,

Here's no bus'neſs of yours, or ought left to do:

No Tempter we need, we can act all our ſelves,

Without any help from you ſilly Elve [...];

For what Presbyter act, he thinks a diſgrace

[Page]All Hell ſhould out-do him, or dare ſhew their face.

8.

For produce all the ill that Hell ever hatch'd,

'Tis nothing at all, when it comes to be match'd

With what has been Plotted by Traytors of late,

Who aim'd at the Ruine of Church, and of State:

By Perjury, Bribes, by ſuborning all Evil,

By Murther, and worſe Than e're came from the Devil.

9.

Now Presbyter come and ſubmit thy ſtiff Neck,

Thou labour'ſt in vain our great Monarch to check;

Whoſe Power Divine no Mortals controul,

But hazard the loſs of both Body and Soul:

Then baniſh for ever your Commonwealth hope,

Which tends to deſtruction, and ends in a Rope.

Epilogue.

With Wine of all ſorts let the Conduits run free,

And each true heart drink the K's Health on his knee:

No Treaſon ſhall lodge in our breaſts while we live,

To God, and to Caeſar their Due we will give;

We'l pray with our hearts, and fight with our hands,

Againſt all Fanat. when great Charles commands.

The Loyal Sheriffs of London and Midleſex. Upon their Election.

Tune, Now at laſt the Riddle, &c.

1.

NOw at laſt the Matter is decided,

Which ſo long the Nation has divided;

Miſguided

[Page]By Intereſt and blind Zeal,

Which ſo well in Forty four they Acted;

Now with greater heat,

They again act o're like Men Diſtracted,

To give to Monarchy a new defeat.

2.

Famous North, of Noble Birth and Breeding,

And in Loyal Principles Exceeding;

Is pleading

To ſtand his Countreys Friend,

To do Juſtice to the King and Nation,

Some ſo much oppoſe,

To renew the work of REFORMATION,

And carry on again the Good Old Cauſe ▪

3.

Next Renowned Box as high commended,

And of Loyal Parentage Deſcended;

Intended

To do the City Right,

With true Courage, and firm Reſolution,

He the Hall Adorns;

But the Heads were all in a Confuſion:

Such [...]d in there was & a ratling with their Horns:

4.

Prick up Ears, and puſh for one another,

Let not Box (an old Malignant) Brother;

Nor ' [...]other

Our Properties command,

He's a Kings-man, North is nothing better,

They walk Hand in Hand

He you know is the Lord Mayor's Creature:

And therefore 'tis not ſit that they ſhould ſtand▪

5.

Where are now our Liberties and Freedom?

[Page]Where ſhall we find Friends when we ſhou'd

To bleed 'em

And pull the Tory's down,

To puſh for our Int'reſt, who can blame us?

Sheriffs rule the Town,

When we looſe our Darling IGNORAMƲS:

We loſe the Combat, and the day's their own:

6.

Then let every Man ſtand by his Brother,

Poll o're ten times, Poll for one another;

What a Pother

You ſee the Tory's make,

Now or never, now to ſave your Charter,

Or your Hearts will ake,

If it goes for them expect no Quarter:

If Law and Juſtice rule, our heels muſt ſhake:

7.

Rout, a Rout, joyn 'Prentice, Bore and Peaſant,

Let the White-hall Party call it Treaſon,

'Tis Treaſon

We ſhould our Necks Defend,

Routs and Ryots, Tumults and Sedition,

Poll 'em o're again,

Theſe do beſt agree with our Condition;

If Monarchy prevail, we're all loſt men.

8.

The Lord Mayor is Loyal in his Station,

'Las what will become o'th Reformation;

O'th' Nation

If the Sheriffs be Loyal too?

Wrangle, Brangle, huff and keep a Clatter;

If we looſe the Field,

Poll 'em o're again, it makes no matter:

For tho' we looſe the Day, we ſcorn to Yield.

[Page]

9.

Ten for Box, and Twenty for Papillion,

North a Thouſand, and Dubois a Million:

What Villain

Our Intereſt dare oppoſe?

With thoſe Noble Patriots thus they ſided,

To uphold the Cauſe;

But the good Lord Mayor the caſe decided:

And once again two Loyal Worthies Choſe.

10.

Noble North, and Famous Box promoted,

By due Courſe and Legal Choice allotted;

They Voted

To be the City Sheriffs

And may they both to Londons Commendation,

Her Ancient Rights reſtore,

To do that Juſtice to the King and Nation,

Which former Factions have deny'd before.

Loyalty Triumphant, on the Confirmation of Mr. North and Mr. Rich, Sheriffs of London and Middleſex.

Tune, Joy to the Bridegroom.

1.

FIll up the Bowl, and ſet it round,

The day is won, the Sheriffs crown'd;

The Rabble flies, the Tumults yield;

And Loyalty maintains the Field;

Saint George for England, then amain,

To Royal CHARLES this Ocean drain▪

2.

With Juſtice may it ever flow,

And in an endleſs Circle go;

[Page]The brim with conqu'ring Bays be crown'd,

And Faction in the Dregs lie drown'd:

Then to the QƲEEN, and Royal James,

Sacrifice your flowing Thames.

3.

Thanks to Sir John, our good Lord Mayor,

'Gainſt Sheriffs Tricks He kept the Chair;

The Court and City's Right maintains,

While head ſtrong Faction broke the Reins:

Then to the famous Sir John Moor,

May after-Age that Name adore.

4.

What Zeal (ye Whigs) to the Old Cauſe.

Thus makes you act againſt the LAWS;

That none for Sheriff muſt contend,

But your old IGNORAMƲS Friend?

But now, your hopes are all deſtroy'd,

And your two Champions laid aſide.

5.

Is this your love to Church and State,

That no good man muſt ſerve of late,

While you can find one Factious Rogue,

To ſway the Poll, and get your Vogue?

By unjuſt means your Rights you claim,

And lawleſs Force maintain the ſame.

6

But brave Sir John, while th'ſtorms increaſe,

His Wiſdom made the Tumults ceaſe;

In ſpight of all Illegal Poll,

The Routs and Ryots did controll:

Whence He ſhall gain a laſting Name,

And after-Age Record His Fame.

7

Amongſt the Men of chiefeſt worth,

The Vote is given for Loyal NORTH,

[Page]In ſpight of Pilkington and Shute,

Papilion, and the Rabble Rout:

Then to brave NORTH a double Doze,

Who the ſtrong Factions did oppoſe.

8.

Now BOX withdraws, Dubois contends,

And Noble RICH the Stage aſcends;

By Legal ('gainſt Illegal) Vote,

The Loyal Tribune they promote:

Then to brave RICH a Health off hand,

Who the loud Tumults did withſtand.

9.

For Ropes and Gibbets the next year,

The Whigs we hope) need not deſpair;

If Rich find TIMBER, (give them ſcope)

Brave North will never grudge them ROPE:

Then, to conclude, we'll crown the Bowl

With a Health to th [...] K. and each Loyal Soul.

London's Joy and Triumph, on the Inſtalment of Sir William Pritchard L. Mayor for the enſuing year.

Tune, Tangier March:

1.

LEt the Whigs revile,

The Tories Smile,

That their buſineſs is Compleated,

Let all Rejoyce

With Heart and Voice,

That the Whig's at laſt defeated.

The Whigs for Loyalty ſo Fam'd,

With all their Hopes are Undone;

Since now brave Pritchard is Proclaim'd

The Loyal Mayor of London.

[Page]

2.

You Poliſh Brace

Whoſe Brazen Face,

To the Chair wou'd be Aſpiring,

See the Rabble Crowd

Who Poll'd ſo Loud;

Are bawk'd beyond Admiring;

Learn in time to mitigate

Your bold Tumultuous Fury,

Er'e you ſhall find, you truſt too late,

To Ignoramus Jury.

3.

Let Player Tom

Receive the Doom,

So long due for his Cheating,

Who did purloyn

The City Coyn,

To keep up Holy Meeting;

To Rob the Orphan, and the Poor.

His great Diſcharge of Truſt is,

And run upon the Widdows Score,

To do the City Juſtice.

4.

Let Ward Repent,

And Jenks Relent,

Their Practice ſo malitious,

Let Hobland rue

With all the Crew,

That they were ſo Officious;

Such Jews as theſe, who did deny

Their Saviour for a Teſter,

No doubt again wou'd Crucify

Their Sovereign Lord and Maſter.

[Page]

5.

For North and Rich,

And every ſuch,

They ſet up a Papillion;

'Gainſt Pritchard hold,

With Corniſh, Gold,

With Ryot and Rebellion:

To love the King can you pretend,

Who Royaliſts deny all;

And with ſuch Vigour dare contend,

Againſt the Man that's Loyal.

6.

For ſhame in time

Repent your Crime

Your Ryot and Commotion;

And to the Mayor,

Who kept the Chair,

Pay all your juſt Devotion;

Such was their Loyalty of late,

To give the King no Money:

But freely throw away their Plate,

To joyn with Rebel Tony.

7.

Thus you before

Did run on ſcore

With Royal Charles your Maſter;

Like Drunk or mad

Spent all you had

To uphold a bold Impoſture:

Let not Knaves again betray,

And rob you of your Reaſon,

Then leave your Factious Heads to pay

The forfeit of your Treaſon.

[Page]

8.

With all your heat

What did you get?

With all your din and quarter;

But to involve

With each Reſolve

The more entangled Charter?

To Charles your juſt Allegiance give,

Your Properties, then plead em,

Defending the Prerogative,

You beſt protect your Freedom.

Ryot upon Ryot; or a SONG upon the Arreſting the Loyal Lord Mayor and Sheriffs.

Tune, Burton Hall.

1.

ROwze up Great Monarch

In the Royal Cauſe;

The Great Defender

Of our Faith and Laws:

Now, now, or never,

Cruſh the Serpent's Head,

Or elſe the Poyſon▪

Through the Land will ſpread.

The Noble Mayor,

And his two Loyal Sherieves,

Bearing the Sword's, aſſaulted

By Uſurping Thieves,

Who their Rebellious Ryots

Would maintain by Law:

Oh! London! London!

Where's thy Juſtice now?

[Page]

2.

Smite, ſmite, the Snakes

Did firſt their Sting reveal,

Stabbing thy Royal

Brother in the Heel;

And ſtruck ſo many

Loyal Martyr's dead,

Now in the Sun

Flies boldly at the Head.

Slaves that reſiſt

All Power but their own;

He that would uſurp the Chair,

Would next uſurp the Throne,

Who neither Royal Heir

Nor Loyal Mayors allow:

Oh! London! London!

Where's thy Charter now?

3.

London, of Faction's

The eternal Spring,

Yet ſo much favour'd

By a Gracious King;

Who does ſuch Deeds

That have no parallel,

Only to teach

Thy Children to Rebel.

This will record thee

In the Books of Fame;

This bold Attempt no Law,

Nor Precedent can claim:

Blood and the Crown, Papillion

And Dubois out-do:

Oh! London! London!

Where's thy Charter now?

[Page]

4.

Was this the way

Your Ryots to repair;

In ſpight o [...]th Charter,

To Arreſt the Mayor?

And gainſt the Sh'riffs

Your ſham Actions bring,

'Cauſe juſtly choſen,

And approv'd by th' King?

What call you this, but Treaſon?

Whilſt the Fool

That did Arreſt the Mayor

Expects himſelf to Rule;

And, ſave his own, no other

Power would allow:

Oh! London! London!

Where's thy Charter now?

5.

Hang up the Factious Heads

That dare oppoſe

The Sword of Juſtice,

And the Ancient Laws:

Who in his Office

Dare Arreſt the Mayor,

Diſowns the Pow'r

That plac'd Him in the Chair.

Tantara ra-ra!

Let the Trumpets ſound,

Double all your Guards▪ and let

The Cent'nels ſtand their ground:

He that Arreſts the Mayor,

Would bind the Monarch too:

Oh! London! London!

Where's thy Charter now?

London's Lamentation for the loſs of their Charter.

[Page]

Tune, Packington's Pound.

1.

YOu Free-men, and Maſters, and Prentices mourn,

For now You are left with your Charter forlorn:

Since London was London, I dare boldly ſay,

For your Ryots you never ſo dearly did pay;

In Weſtminſter-hall

Your Dagon did fall,

That caus'd You to Ryot and Mutiny all:

Oh London! Oh London! Thou'dſt better had none,

Than thus with thy Charter to vie with the Throne.

2.

Oh London! Oh London! how cou'dſt Thou pretend

Againſt thy Defender Thy Crimes to defend?

Thy Freedoms and Rights from kind Princes did ſpring,

And yet in contempt thou withſtandeſt Thy King:

With bold brazen Face

They pleaded Thy Caſe,

In hopes to the Charter the King wou'd give place:

Oh London! Thou'dſt better no Charter at all,

Than thus for Rebellion thy Charter ſhou'd fall.

3.

Since Britains to London came over to dwell,

You had an old Charter, to buy and to ſell;

And whilſt in Allegiance each honeſt man lives,

Then you had a Charter for Lord Mayor and Sheriffs:

But when, with Your Pride,

You began to backſlide,

[Page]And London of Factions did run w'th' Tide▪

Then London, Oh London! 'tis time to withdraw,

Leſt the floud of Your Factions the Land over-flow.

4.

When Faction and fury of Rebels prevail'd;

When Coblers were Kings, & Monarchs were jayl'd;

When Maſters in Tumults their Prentices led,

And the Tail did begin to make war with the Head;

When Thomas and Kate

Did bring in their Plate,

T'uphold the Old Cauſe of the Rump of the State

Then tell me, Oh London! I prethee now tell,

Hadſt thou e'r a Charter to Fight and Rebel?

5.

When zealous Sham Sheriffs the City oppoſe,

In ſpight of the Charter, the King, and the [...]aws,

And make ſuch a Ryot and Rout in the Town,

That never before ſuch a Racket was known;

When Ryoters dare

Arreſt the Lord May'r,

And force the King's Subſtitute out of the Chair

Oh London! whoſe Charter is now on the Lees,

Did Your Charter e'r warrant ſuch actions as theſe?

6.

Alas for the Brethren! what now muſt they do,

For chooſing Whig-Sheriffs and Burgeſſes too?

The Charter with Patience is gone to the pot,

And the Doctor is loſt in the depth of the Plot:

St. Stephen his Flayl

No more will prevail,

Nor Sir Robert's Dagger, the Charter to bail:

Oh London! Thou'dſt better have lain in the Fire,

Then thus thy old Charter ſhou'd ſtick in the Mire.

[Page]

7.

But ſince with your Folly, your Faction and Pride,

You ſink with the Charter, who ſtrove with the Tide,

Let all the loſt Rivers return to the Main

From whence they deſcended; They'l ſpring out again;

Submit to the King

In every thing,

Then of a New Charter New Sonnets we'll ſing:

As London, (the Phoenix of England,) ne'r dies,

So out of the Flames a new Charter will riſe.

The Wine-Coop [...]rs Delight,

Tune of The Delights of the Bottle.

THe Delights of the Bottle are turn'd out of dores,

By Factious Fanatical ſons of damn'd Whores.

French Wines Prohibition, meant no other thing

But to Poyſon the Subject▪ & begger the King.

Good Nature's ſuggeſted with Dregs like to choak her,

Of fulſom ſtum'd Wine by the curſed Wine-Cooper

Our plaguy Wine-Cooper has tamper'd ſo much,

To find out the ſubtilty of the falſe Dutch.

He tinctures prickt White-wine, that never was good,

Till it mantles, and ſparkles & looks like Bulls bloud:

But when it declines, and its Spirits expire,

He adds more Ingredients, and makes it look higher

His old rotten Pipes where he keeps all his Traſh

For fear they ſhould burſt▪ Sir, he hoops them with Aſh.

[Page]When the Sophiſtication begins for to froth,

And boils on the Fret, Sir, he wiſely pulls forth

A Tap, which gives vent to the grounds of the Cauſe,

And then is to vamp up a ſecond Red Noſe.

Then this dingy Wine-Cooper ſtops it up again,

And keeps it unvented till 'tis all on a flame.

The Intelligences then were invented to ſhow,

Where Wine of ſtrange Vertues in plenty did flow.

People from all parts of the Nation did come,

Both Lords, Knights and Gentlemen, Doctor & Bum.

The Cooper then pulls the Tap out of his ſide,

And drinks to the Elders of all the good Tribe.

But when they had guſ [...]'d about all the Bowls,

They found a ſtrange freedom it gave to their Souls

Of ſecrets in Nature that never were known,

It gave Inſpiration from Beggar to Throne.

For the Cooper himſelf full Brimmers did draw,

And all the whole Gang were oblig'd to do ſo.

Amongſt theſe Gabals there was no ſuch thing,

As a Health once propos'd to the D. or the King.

But drank to that Idol of Hopes in their Powers.

And Sons of moſt Infamous Hackney old Whores.

Then the Rable had notice from Smith and from Ben

What a Heavenly Liquor was ſent amongſt men.

Both Tinkers and Coblers the Broom men and Sweep,

Before this Wine-Cooper in Flocks they did meet;

And each under-foot ſtampt his old greazy Bonnet

To drink M—th's Health, Boys, whate'r come on it.

The Cooper preceiving his Trade to approach,

He then was reſolved once more to debauch.

[Page]To encourage the Rable, and ſhew himſelf ſtout,

He pull'd out the Spigot amongſt the whole Rout

Which kindneſs provok'd them to ſwear they would bring

Such a Trade to his Houſe as wou'd make him a King.

A Hat or a Bottle was ſtill at the Tap;

But Zealots ſometimes laid their Mouths to the Fat.

They charg'd their brisk Bumpers ſo many times round,

Till part of the Mobile ſprawl'd on the ground:

But when this damn'd Liquor was get in their Pates,

They fell to Bumbaſting, Diſord'ring of States.

They began to cant Dangers by formal Sedition

And ſwear lawful Allegiance 'againſt lawful Succeſſion.

When theſe Propoſitions began to take Fire,

They ſcrew'd their Preſumptions a hole or two higher;

But ſtill they keep under Hugh Peters's Cloak,

To bring in the Devil, to drive out the Pope.

But then they began for to pick at the Crown

Each thinking that he deſerv'd one of his own.

Then all the Kings Guards they thought fit to Indict,

Swear Treaſon 'gainſt all that maintain [...]d the King's Right.

Both Papiſts and Proteſtants no matter whether,

They are not of our party, let's hang 'em together,

Next the chief of our Game is to keep the King poor,

And our Senators muſt the Militia ſecure.

The Navy & Cinque-ports we'll have in our hands,

[Page]And then we'll make th' Kingdom obey our Commands.

Then if Charles do withſtand us, we need not to fight,

To make Eighty one to out-do Forty eight.

What ever Objections great Loyaliſts bring,

Old Adam liv'd happy without e'r a King.

Then why may not we, that are much wiſer than he,

Subdue the whole World, Sir, by our Sov'raignty:

If one man alone can keep three Nations under,

Then why may not We that are Kings without number?

Right, ſaid the Cooper, & ſhak'd his old Noddle,

Three Kingdoms we'll toſs, like a Child in a Cradle

Stick cloſe to this Liquor which I do prepare,

'Twill make us as ſplendid as Noll in his Chair,

We'll kindle old Plots, by contriving of new,

Till none ſhall be ſafe but the Cooper and You.

O brave Boys! O brave Boys! the Rabble did rore.

Tantivies and Tories ſhall Hector no more;

By Ʋs they're out-acted, to Ʋs they ſhall bend,

Whilſt we to our Dignities freely aſcend,

Then they were dead-drunk as the Devil cou'd make 'em.

And fell faſt aſleep, as ten Drums could not wake 'em.

In the Piſs and the Spew the poor Cooper did paddle,

To ſtop up his Tap, but the Knave was not able.

For his Limbs like a Tortoiſe did ſhrivle & creaſe,

Down drops the Wine-Cooper with the other Beaſts

And there the whole Litter as yet doth abide,

At the Sign of the Butt, with the Tap in his ſide.

A Song upon the King Poland, and the Prince o' the Land of Promiſe.

[Page]

Tune, Hold faſt thy Crown and Scepter, Charles

1. Prince.

O Poland Monſter of our Iſle,

Corruption of our Age;

Which on my Infant Hours didſt ſmile,

'Till thou inflam'dſt the Rage

Of my Ambitious Soul, to ſore

Above its defil'd Sphear;

And, Icarus-like, I now muſt low'r,

Transform'd into Deſpair.

2.

Now all my Trophies of Succeſs,

Are in Oblivion drown'd;

And none for Me dare now Addreſs,

Where I hop [...]d to be Crown'd▪

I by thy falſe blind Plots am ſham'd,

Fool'd from a Glorious ſway,

Snatch'd from a Father's Arms, and Damn'd,

Like all that Diſobey

3.

Thou call'dſt my neareſt Friends at Court,

Soft, eaſie, abuſurd Tools,

That Kings were but for Sates-Men's Sport,

The Councel Knaves and Fools.

But I, poor I, find now too late,

Your Poliſh Grace can lye;

None prov [...]d more weak at the Foyls of State,

Than poor ſilly Tom, and I.

4.

Now, that Imperial Crown ▪ which thou

[Page]For me ſo fit hadſt made,

Is faln and broke, I know not how,

And all our Wiles betray [...]d;

Our full Cabals, and Wapping-Treats,

Retrench'd to ſecret Holes:

Treaſon the ſtrength Our Greatneſs waits

In theſe rough reared Walls.

5 Poland.

Thou mighty Prince, by me Elect,

I'th' Land of Promiſe Sways▪

Thy tim'rous Soul is the defect

Of our declining Days.

What brighter Proſpect canſt propoſe,

To Magnifie thy Name,

Than H [...]arts, and Arms, and Power of Thoſe,

That Rule both Law and Fame.

6.

The Ruſtick Swains want not the Word,

No Magazines, nor Horſe;

'Zwounds Sixty Thouſand by the Sword,

Defy both Fate and Curſe.

They'l lay three Kingdoms at our Feet,

In Blood and mangled Brains▪

Then the Train-Bands, Cinque-Ports, and Fleet,

At our Command remains.

7.

Though Rowley, and his Brother Joyns,

And [...]heel's around the Park;

Like two Yoak't Oxen, Tugs and Twines,

'Gainſt our Deſigns i'th' Dark,

And wiſely weighs; Their Wits have wrought

Our Potent Parties Fall;

That Conqueſt muſt be dearer bought,

Elſe Tony Hangs for all.

[Page]

7.

We have reſerv'd Machines in ſtore,

To raiſe more daring Flames,

Then Morrals 'ere Conſpir'd before;

Or Damned Furies Frames.

If e'r a Parliament be call'd,

Our Repreſentatives there

Shall Scorn to be out-box'd, or bawl'd,

In Country, Town, or Shire.

9.

Then every Member of the Cauſe,

Amidſt the Rable Rude,

Who ſhall decide the Poll with blows,

And quaſh the Tory Crowd.

Then ſtick to Time, whilſt Heads are hot,

Our Force together brings:

If this beſt PLOT, at laſt fail not,

By Chriſt, we' [...]l Both be Kings!

The Hunting of the Fox.

Tune, Now the Tories that Glories, &c.

HAy Jouler, Ringwood, and Towzer,

Ho Smoaker, Drunkard, and Fly;

Sweet-lips, Light-foot, and Bowzer;

Brave Bowman, Lofty, and Cry;

And four and twenty brave Couple,

To make a Pack for the Downs,

Sure footed, and your Limbs ſupple;

The Scent's hot yet on the Grounds.

The Old White Fox is got looſe again;

We think he's gone to ketch Gooſe again:

His Cub [...] they ſculk and deſert amain.

Come let [...]s beleaguer their Holes:

[Page]For they're paſt Evil; to th' Devil

We'll ſend 'em with thread-bare Souls.

2.

They have left the City, 'tis pity,

And their damn'd Party i'th Lurch:

If to be Hang'd, 'twould be pretty,

For Treaſon 'gainſt King and Church.

For Cinque-ports, Venus and Juno;

For Champion, Thunder and Spark;

Let Swift beat for Caralino,

And Noſer wind 'em i'th' dark.

Like Waſps and Flies, they would bite us;

As Wolves do Sheep, they would treat us;

Like Crockadiles, they would eat us;

They thirſt for Innocent Blood:

Then never ſcruple, but graple

For King and Country's Good.

3.

Round the Dimenſion o th' Nation,

Beat all the Banks on the Shore;

And ſome leap o're the main Ocean,

If they are gone before.

O ſurround 'em, confound 'em,

From Sea-Port to City-Walls;

If there they venter to ſhelter,

'Zounds tear them out of their Holes:

For making Church into Stables,

And vamping Kings up of Baubles,

And forgoing Plots out of Fables,

And ſeizing Kings in a trice;

That the crooked Piper might vapour

Like Rat amongſt Fifteen Mice.

4.

Scoure the Globe to the Axels,

[Page]From Pole to Pole; then retire,

And center at Mother Creſwels,

The Fox us'd to Harbour there:

There, there both Wives, Whores and Virgins,

He had them all at his Call,

T'oblige his Captains and Surgeons,

'Till better Occaſions fall.

At Oxford late all his Cubs and He,

To the Excluſion did all agree;

Could not budge further, 'till ſign'd and free.

Yet Rowley rouzed the Rump,

And ſent 'em all to Peg Trantams;

And Tapsky's worn to the Stump.

5.

Oh, Swift's returned, and Noſer,

Their Hoofs are batter'd with Greet:

The Game ſhews by the Oppoſer,

He's lodg'd in Alderſgate-Street.

Come ring a Peal with a Courage,

The Grains o'th' Tap makes a Train;

He lurks in Hole to make Forrage

Of all that uſes his Name.

We'll fetch him out with Mandamus,

And hang him with Ignoramus;

There's none but Rebels can blame us:

More Pardons let him not hope;

For all his Squinting and Blinking,

He muſt to th'Hatchet or Rope.

Dagon's Fall.

Tune, Philander, &c.

1.

AH Cruel Bloody Fate!

What canſt thou now do more?

Alas! 'tis now too late

Poor Toney to reſtore:

[Page]Why ſhould the flattering Fates perſuade,

That Toney ſtill ſhould live,

In England here,

Or in Holland there,

Yet all our hopes deceive?

2.

A Noble Peer He was,

And of Notorious Fame;

But now He's gone (alas!)

A Pilgrim o're the Main:

The Prop and Pillar of our hope

The Patron of our cauſe,

The Scorn and Hate

Of Church and State,

The Urchin of the Laws.

3.

Of matchleſs Policy

Was this Renowned Peer,

The bane of Monarchy,

The Peoples Hope and Fear,

The Joy of all True Proteſtants,

The Tories Scorn and Dread;

But now He's gone

Who curſt the Throne,

Alas! poor Toney's dead.

4.

For Commonwealth he ſtood,

Pretending Liberty;

And for the Publick Good

Would pull down Monarchy:

The Church and State he would divorce,

The Holy Cauſe to wed:

And in time did hope

To confound the Pope,

To be himſelf the Head.

[Page]

5.

A Tap in's ſide he bore,

To broach all ſorts of Ill,

For which Seditious Store

The Crowd ador'd him ſtill:

He ſpit his Venom through the Town,

With which the Saints poſſeſt,

Would preach and prate

'Gainſt Church and State,

While He perform'd the reſt.

6.

When any change of State

Or Miſchief was at hand,

He had a working Pate,

And Devil at command:

He forg [...]d a Plot, for which the Heads

Of Faction gave their Votes;

But now the Plot

Is gone to pot,

What will become of Oates?

7.

Under the fair pretence

Of Right, Religion, Law,

Excluding the True Prince,

The Church would overthrow:

With ſuch Religious Shams he brought

The Rabble on his ſide;

And, for his ſport,

The Town and Court

In Parties would divide.

8.

Now what's become of all

His ſquinting Policy,

Which wrought your Dagon [...]s Fall,

From Juſtice forc [...]d to flie?

[Page]Old and Decrepid, full of pains▪

As he of Guilt was full:

He fell to Fate,

And now (too late)

He leaves us to condole.

9.

Now, learn ye Whigs in time,

By his deſerved fall,

To expiate his Crime,

E're Fate revenge you all;

For Rights, Religion, Liberty,

Are but the Sham-pretence

To Anarchy;

But Loyalty

Obeys the Lawful Prince:

Hue-and-Song after Patience Ward.

Tune, Hail to the Myrtle Shades.

1.

HAil to London fair Town,

All hail to the Mayor and the Shrieves;

Hail to the Scarlet Gown,

Whoſe Sentence our Patience grieves:

Juſtice and Law hath prevail'd,

With Patience a Verdict to find,

'Gainſt Patience, whoſe Conſcience fail'd;

Oh Patience! why art ſo blind?

2.

Patience, the joy of the Town,

The comfort and hope of the Crowd;

Patience, who got renown,

By Perjury, Lies and Fraud:

Patience who ne'r had the Heart

[Page]His Sovereign's Rights to maintain;

But Patience he had the Art

To Swear and Forſwear again.

3.

Patience for Church and for State,

And Patience for Meetings by ſtealth;

Patience, who wou'd tranſlate

The State to a Commonwealth:

Whoſe Zeal has his Patience betray'd,

To lie for the Saints in diſtreſs;

Nay, tho' he [...]s Forſworn, ('tis ſaid,)

He Swore he could do no leſs.

4.

Patience, whoſe Zeal did contrive

The Monument Figures and Spire,

That while there's a Papiſt alive

We may not forget the Fire:

The Pillory now is his Lot,

He has rais [...]d ſuch a flame with his Crew,

That London is now too hot;

Oh Patience! where art thou now?

5.

Patience for Zeal to the Cauſe,

Did preach to the Captives in Goal▪

Patience, with great applauſe,

Gave large to an Hoſpital:

To Ʋſe now his Money may lend,

For Pomfret he'l never more ſtand,

Nor Warrants for Thompſon ſend,

T'pleaſe Titus o'th' Perjur'd Band.

6.

Patience with Coller of Braſs,

To woful Diſaſters did fall;

Patience with Copper Face,

And a Conſcience worſe than all;

[Page]To Holland, to Holland he goes;

For plainly now it appears,

That (in ſpight of all Whiggiſh Laws,)

Ignoramus can't ſave his Ears.

7.

Some ſay that the Saints may not Swear,

But Lie ev'n as much as they can;

Yet Patience in ſpight on's Ears,

Will Swear and Forſwear again:

That Patience ſhould be ſo far loſt,

Alas! who with Patience can hear?

That a Saint ſhould be Knight o'th' Poſt,

And an Elder without an Ear.

8.

Let ev'ry good Subject with Me,

Who Patience a Virtue doth praiſe,

Leſt he fall into Perjury,

With Patience pray for Grace.

But now I with Patience have done,

Leſt with Patience I keep ſuch a Rout,

That aſtray more with Patience run,

And weary your Patience out.

A new SONG on the Arrival of Prince George, and his Intermarriage with the Lady Anne.

Tune, Old Jemmy.

1.

PRince George at laſt is come,

Fill every man his Bumper;

For the Valiant Dane make room,

Confuſion to each Rumper,

And every prodigal ſtarch'd Fool

Aſpires unto a Crown,

[Page]By hopes of Plotting Knaves to Rule,

Who next wou'd pull Him down.

2.

Preſerve Great Charles our King,

And His Illuſtrious Brother

Whilſt Whigs in Halters ſwing,

And hang up one another:

The joyful Bridegroom and the Bride,

Prince George of Royal Race,

Of all the Swains the Joy and Pride,

The ſubject of their [...]ays.

3.

Brave George He is a Lad

With all Perfections ſhining;

With every Virtue clad,

And every Grace refining:

But oh! of ſuch a war-like Race,

So Conqu'ring are his Charms,

No Mars in Field, but muſt give place

To His Victorious Arms.

4.

Brave George, Great Denmark's Son,

(A ſtout and war-like Nation)

By Birth to England's Crown

A near and dear Relation;

But now the Knot is doubly ty'd,

Which makes him ſtill more near,

The Knot which Knaves would have deſtroy'd,

By cutting off the Heir.

5.

But now the Tribe's diſpers'd,

Their Projects are defeated,

Which Walcot and the reſt

Did hope to have compleated:

[Page]And now they'l pay for all their ſcores,

Who for that Int'reſt ſtood,

And let 'em hang for Sons of Whores,

Who thirſt for Royal Blood.

6

Poor Perkin! where's the hope

Of all thy high promoting?

Now, Bully Tom, a Rope

Muſt crown thy Cheats and Plotting:

Let Ferguſon with Gray eſcape,

They ſafe are ev'ry-where,

If Murder, Treaſon, Luſt and Rape

Can paſs unpuniſh'd here.

7.

Let M— for a Crown,

That hopeful Prince ſo Loyal,

Away with Rebels run,

To raiſe an Army-Royal:

Brave George for England ſcorns to fly,

Old Jemmy ſtout as He,

Their Plots and Malice we defie,

And all their Treachery.

8.

May Heav'n, which him did raiſe

O'th' Proteſtant Profeſſion,

In His Immortal Race

Maintain the juſt Succeſſion,

That no pretending Baſtard bold

In time to come may dare

His lawleſs Title to uphold,

Againſt the lawful Heir.

A new Song made by a Perſon of Quality, and ſung before His Majeſty at Wincheſter

[Page]

Tune, Cook Lawrel.

1.

A Tory came late through Weſtminſter-hall,

And as he paſt by heard a Citizen bawl;

The Judges are Perjur'd, and we are undone,

Our Liberty's loſt, and our Charter is gone.

2.

This comes of our Prating ſince Colledge is dead;

This comes of our Plotting without [...]ony's Head:

For he had more wit in his Treaſon by half,

As he hook [...]d himſelf on, he crook'd himſelf off.

3.

He ſcarce had ſaid this when a Baron approac'd

That ruin'd two Siſters, the younger debauch'd:

The Reaſons he cry'd, I'm loath to deſcribe,

He would have a Maiden-head out of the Tribe.

4.

The next came a Peer, & a Knight of great Fame,

One Famous for Stabbing, the other was Lame;

O Heavens! in what a ſtrange Age do we dwell,

When Bully's Reform, and Cripples Rebel.

5.

With them the ſweet Speaker, Wi. W—s I ſaw,

His Head full of Projects, but empty of Law;

For he 'tis obſerv'd has been dull as a Dog

Since Pe—n batoon'd him for calling him R [...]

6.

Peart Wa—op and Win—on, Mutinies breed,

Yet ſtill in the Cauſe, for no purpoſe are Fee'd▪

For Cradeck will offer himſelf for a Drudge;

If either of them will be fit for a Judge.

[Page]

7.

Old Ma—rd, all ages in Faction was chief;

Now Mumbles by rote, ne'r looks in his Brief:

But rotten Rebellion will never laſt long,

He ſpit out his Teeth, & will cough out his Tongue.

8.

Now by the Re—er new Cards muſt be plaid,

That Body of Law with a Sarazens-Head,

That (Span [...]el-like) fawns on the King to his face

And yet makes the Whigs juſt amends for his place.

9.

For Magiſtrate Patience, I plainly confeſs,

I've little to ſay, becauſe he's in Diſtreſs;

But he that ſat once in th' Cities great Chair,

Would a Pillory grace; ſo I wiſh he were there.

10.

Dubois and Papillion, the Cities ſham Shrieves,

Whoſe Truth and whoſe Loyalty no man believes;

That Arreſted the Mayor and no danger forſaw,

To keep from ſelf-hanging I leave to the Law.

11.

For Law they complain'd, of the Lawyers they boaſt,

They'r pleas [...]d, till by Law they their Ch▪ had loſt:

Law, Law, was the cry of the Mutinous Crew,

The Devil's in't if they ha'nt Law enough now.

12.

Scribe Cl—n's Wife deckt with the ſpoils of the poor,

Embroider [...]d in Scarlet like Babylon's Whore;

But let me adviſe him to ſtrip off her Red,

And make her a Peticoat of her Green-Bed.

13.

Old Pl—yer grown rampant, late pickt up a Whore

And ſwore he'd recant, & be Whiggiſh no more;

By Tories made Drunk in the Company's view.

[Page]The Saint kiſt her C—t, and drank healths in her Shoe.

14

Now liſten ye Whigs, and hear what I ſpeak,

A Monarch (like Heaven can give and can take;

But you for Rebellion no Reaſon can bring,

So hang your ſelves all; and God ſave the King.

The New-market SONG

Tune, Old Symon the King.

1.

THe Golden Age is come,

The Winter-ſtorms are gone,

The Flowers ſpread, and Bloom,

And ſmile to ſee the Sun;

Who daily gilds each Grove,

And calms the Air and Seas,

Dame Nature ſeems in Love,

And all the World's at eaſe:

You Rogue ſo ſaddle Ball,

I [...]ll to New market ſcour▪

You never mind when I call,

I ſhou [...]d have been there this hour;

For there is all Sporting and Game,

Without any [...]lotting of State;

From Whigs, and another ſuch Sham,

Deliver us, deliver us, O Fate!

Let's be to each other a [...]rey,

To be chea [...]ed be ev'ry ones Lot;

Or chous'd any ſort of a way,

But by another Damn'd Plot.

Let Cullies that loſe at the Race

Go venture at Hazard, and win;

And he that is bubbl'd at Dice,

Recover't at Cocking again:

[Page]Let Jades that are founder'd be bought,

Let Jockeys play Crimp to make ſport;

For 'faith it was ſtrange, methought,

to ſee Vintner beat the Court.

2.

Each corner of the Town

Rings with perpetual noiſe,

The Oyſter bawling Clown

Joyns with hot Pudding-pies;

And both in Conſort keep,

To vend their ſtinking Ware,

The drowzy God of Sleep

Hath no Dominion there.

Hey boys! the Jockeys roar.

If the Mare and the Gelding run,

I'll hold you Five Guineys to Four

He beats her, and gives half a ſtone.

God d—me, quoth Bully, 'tis done,

Or elſe I'm a Son of a Whore;

And fain wou'd I meet with the man

Would offer it, would offer it once more.

See, ſee the damn'd Fa [...]e of the Town!

A Fop that was ſtarving of late,

And ſcarcely cou'd borrow a Crown,

Puts in to run for the Plate,

Another makes chouſing a Trade,

And dreams of his Projects to come,

And many a Crimp match has made,

By bribing another man's Groom.

The Towns-men are Whiggiſh, God rot 'em,

Their hearts are but Loyal by fits;

For, ſhou'd you ſearch to the bottom,

They're as naſty as their Streets.

[Page]

3.

But now all hearts beware;

See, ſee on yonder Downs?

Beauty now tryumphs there,

And at this diſtance wounds:

In the Amazonian Wars

Thus all the Virgins ſhone,

And, like the glittering Stars,

Paid homage to the Moon.

Love proves a Tyrant now,

And there doth proudly dwell;

For each ſtubborn heart muſt bow,

He has found a new way to kill:

For ne'r was invented before

Such Charms of additional Grace

Nor has Divine Beauty ſuch Pow'r

In ev'ry, in ev'ry fair Face.

Ods bud, cries my Country-man John,

Was ever the like before ſeen?

By Hats and by Feathers they ve on,

Iſe took 'em e [...]n all for men:

Embroider'd and fine as the Sun,

Their Horſes and Trappings of Gold;

Such a ſight I ſhall ne'r ſee again,

If I live to a hundred years old.

This, this is the Countreys diſcourſe

All wondring at this rare ſight:

Then Roger go ſaddle my Hor [...]e,

For I will be there to night.

A New Song on the Fan. Plot,

[Page]

Tune Hey Boys up go We

NOw, now the Plot is all come out,

That caus'd our Doubts and Fears,

And all the Tribe that made the Rout,

Both Commoners and Peers;

The mighty Patrns of the Cauſe,

Gainſt Pagan Popery,

Who rais'd a Gibbet for our Foes,

And hey Boys up go we.

2.

With Sanctify'd Religious Zeal

The Brethren did agree

To raiſe our Ancient Commonweal

On Chriſtian Liberty:

To undermine the Church and State,

And blow up Monarchy;

But now, alas! 'tis our own Fate,

And hey Boys up go We.

3.

A Holy Covenant we took,

To Sacrifice the King,

And next to him the Royal Duke,

A Bloody Offering;

For which, according to the Vote,

The Papiſts all ſhou'd die;

But now the Saints have chang'd their note,

And hey Boys up go we.

Our Zealous Covenanting Saints,

Aſſociating Peers,

Each Heart for fear with Patience pants,

To loſe more than his Fars;

Toney's dead, and M—s fled,

The Helm is turn'd a Lee

The Plot (the Nail) is knock'd o'th' head,

And hey then up go we.

[Page]

No longer may the Papiſts boaſt

Their Bloody black Deſigns;

Old Rome thy Ancient Glory's loſt,

For all thy Learn'd Divines:

For Royal Murders, Treaſons baſe,

And marchleſs Trachery,

The Jeſuits muſt now give place,

And hey Boys up go we.

6.

How well did we contrive the Plot,

And laid it at their Door,

For which old Stafford went to pot,

And many guiltleſs more;

But now the Tide is come about,

The Truth of all we ſee;

And when the Murder all is out,

Then hey Boys up go We.

7.

Rumſey's Gold, and Rumbold bold,

Conſpire to kill the King,

And Pickering in fatal hold,

Muſt anſwer for the thing;

[...]elthor [...], Weſt, and all the reſt,

With Perkin may agree,

To be o'th' Tower not Throne poſſeſt;

Then hey Boys up go we.

8.

Our City Ryots and Country Routs,

That to Rebellion tend,

Our Races, and our Hunting-bouts,

In Inſurrections end;

The Rebel now is catch'd i'th' Snare

[...]e laid for Monarchy;

At laſt the Gallows claims its ſhare,

Then hey Goys up go we.

The Conſpiracy; or, the diſcovery of the Fanatick Plot.

[Page]

Tune, Let Oliver now be forgotten, &c.

1.

LEt Pickering now be forgotten,

Old Rumbold has wip'd off his ſcores;

Since Presbyter Jack went a Plotting,

The Jeſuits turn'd out of Dores:

For Brewing, ſwilling of Treaſon,

King-killing without reaſon,

Of all the Pack,

Noble or Peaſant,

None can exceed old Presbyter Jack.

2.

Firſt, the hot Sectaries Voted,

'Twas Treaſon to Murther the King▪

And next the bold Regicides Plotted

To compaſs the very ſame Thing:

Their Votes and Arbitrary Power,

That ſent the Lords to the Tower,

We now ſee plain,

Every hour,

They'd the old Game play over again.

3.

Rumſey and Rumbold indented

At Hodſdon their Ambuſh to bring;

But Heav'n and the Fire prevented,

And Providence guarded the King:

The Whigs the Treaſon propounded;

But when the Trumpet ſounded

For Cambridgeſhire,

All were confounded,

Taken or fled both Peaſant and Peer.

[Page]

4

M [...]nmo [...]th for Wit, who was able

To make to a Crown a pretence,

The Head and the Hope of the Rabble,

A [...]oyal and Politick Prince:

But now He's gone into Holland,

To be a King of no-Land,

Or elſe muſt be

Monarch of Poland,

Was ever Son ſo Loyal as He?

5.

Lord Gray, and Armſtrong the Bully,

That Prudent and Politick Knight,

Who made of His Grace ſuch a Cully,

Together have taken their flight:

Is this your Races, Horſe-matches,

His Grace's ſwift Diſpatches

From Shire to Shire?

Under the Hatches,

Now above-Deck you dare not appear.

6.

Brave Ruſſel and Sidney the Bully,

That ſtood for the holy Old Cauſe;

And Trenchard drawn in for a Cully,

In ſpight of Allegiance and Laws;

And Wildman too, with his Cannon,

With Walcot, Smith and Aaron,

With Mead and Bourn,

Every Man, on

To Tyburn goes the next in his Turn.

7.

Next Valiant and Noble Lord H—d

That formerly dealt in Lambs-wool,

And knows what it is to be Tower [...]d,

By Impeaching may fill the Jayl [...] full:

[Page]And next to him Cully Brandon

The Wit; and famous Hambden

Muſt take his place,

Who did abandon

All Loyalty, Religion and Grace.

8.

Hone ▪ and Rowſe, the King and His Brother

That they were to kill 'em confeſt,

And now they hang up one another,

Holms, Blaney, Lee, Walcot and Weſt:

May all ſuch Traytors diſcarded,

To Tyburn be well guarded,

And ev'ry thing

Be ſo rewarded,

That would oppoſe ſo Gracious a King.

RƲSSEL's Farewel Tune, Oh, the merry Chriſt-Church Bells, &c.

OH, the mighty Innocence

Of Ruſſel, Bedford's Son!

That dy'd for the Plot,

Whether Guilty, or not,

By his laſt (Equivocating) Speech!

By the words of a dying man,

I here proteſt I know no Plot

'Gainſt the Life of the King, or Government,

Either by Action, or Intent.

Fy, fy, fy, fy, fy, fy, my Lord,

What are you about to do?

To ſink to Hell

By th' ſound of your Knell,

Both Soul and Body too.

[Page]

Oh, the ſhallow memory

Of this blood-thirſty Lord!

T'deny and confeſs,

And all to expreſs

His guilty Inſolence the more:

I at Mr. Shepherd's houſe

Did hear ſome little ſlight diſcourſe,

How eaſie 'twas the Guards to ſeize;

Yet I am guiltleſs, if you pleaſe;

No, no, no, no, no, no, my Lord,

Your Guilt's too plainly ſeen,

And M—th too,

With Shaftsbury's Crew,

To deſtroy both King and Queen

3

Next your Lordſhip does proteſt,

No man had ever yet

That Impudence

Againſt his Prince,

To your face to propoſe any foul Deſign:

Then you confeſs immediately,

At the Houſe of Politick Shaftsbury

You heard ſuch words

Were ſharp as Swords,

The worſt can be thought or Engliſh affords;

Which rais'd your Righteous Spirit to

Exclaim againſt their ſenſe;

Yet this you conceal'd,

And never reveal'd,

Till in your blind Defence.

4.

Po [...]ery (your Lordſhip ſays)

Is Bloody and unjuſt;

What then) you deſign'd

With thoſe you combin'd,

[Page]Was farce, to jeſt our Lives away;

For when the Duke of Monmouth came

T'acquaint your Honour of his Fear

Of being undone by the heat of ſome,

Too violent for the bloody Cauſe,

Away you go to Shepherd [...]s ſtrait,

Where pernicious words were ſaid,

In Paſſion all,

With Judgment ſmall,

But conſequence of Dread.

5.

From the time of chooſing Sheriffs,

I did conclude the heat

Would this produce;

That's no excuſe,

But juſt Confeſſion of the Fact.

Preſently your Lordſhip ſays,

For farther Confirmation ſtill,

You are not ſurpriz [...]d to find it fall

On your Honour you deſerv'd it all:

Immediately you would proclaim

Aloud your Innocence

Why your Lordſhip's mad,

In a Cauſe ſo bad,

To put that Sham-pretence.

6.

O ye True blew Proteſtants,

Whoſe times are yet to come,

You ſee your Fate;

Early or late

Follow you muſt, 'tis all your Doom.

M [...]th, Armſtrong, Ferguſon,

Gray, Goodenough the Under-Shrieve,

With all your Ignoramus Crew,

[Page]That Juſtice hate, and Treaſon brew;

Scaffold, Tyburn, Halter, Ax,

Thoſe Inſtruments of Death,

As 'tis your due,

May't you purſue,

Till you reſign your Breath.

Euſtace Comines the Iriſh Evidence, his Farewel to England. Tune,

O hone, O hone

1.

BEe me Shoul and Shouluation,

O hone, O hone.

I'le go to mee own Nawtion:

O hone, O hone.

Old Tony hence is fled,

And Ruſſel loſt his Head;

I ſtarve for want of Bread,

O hone, O hone.

2.

This Sawcy Engliſh Plot,

O hone, O hone.

Did make Ours go to Pot:

O hone, O hone.

What ſhall I do to go?

Let me ſhee, O ho! O ho!

Pox take me if I know:

O hone, O hone.

3.

My ſauce does red wid Shame,

O hone, O hone.

That ever here I came:

O hone, O hone

Ten, Twenty Curſe upon

[Page]Sham Juſtice Heddrington,

Who made me firſt leave Home,

O hone, O hone.

4.

A Gra Euſtace, he did ſay

O hone, O hone.

You moyle for a Groat a day:

O hone, O hone.

A Plot Office now is ope,

I will advance your Hope,

If you'l Swear againſt the Pope,

O hone, O hone.

5.

Be Creeſt I will, ſaid I,

O hone, O hone.

Tell you ten hundred Lye,

O hone, O hone.

I'le Swear dem in and out,

Wee'l have a merry bout,

And make a Rabble rout,

O hone, O hone.

6.

We came to Weſtminſter,

O hone, O hone.

Den he call'd me Maiſhter,

O hone, O hone.

I ſwore by Fait and Trote,

And by my Beeble Oate,

(What wee'd agreed on bote,)

O hone, O hone.

7.

Then I was put in pay,

O hone, O hone.

Had five, ſix Groat a day,

O hone, O hone.

[Page]Which did fine Cloads afford,

Inſtead of Spawde, a Sword;

I knew not mee ſhelf good Lord,

O hone, O hone.

8.

But ſoon my Maiſhter Rogue,

O hone, O hone.

Was in ſpite of his Brogue:

O hone, O hone.

For the Sawce of his Tongue,

To Priſons dragg'd along,

Magnatum Scandalum,

O hone, O hone.

9.

Then was prepar'd a Drench,

O hone, O hone.

Oats himſhelf to Retrench;

O hone, O hone.

The meaner Swearers then

To Tremble did begin:

As I have a Shoul widin:

O hone, O hone.

10.

By this Book I did faint,

O hone, O hone.

Till Patrick mee fwhite Saint:

O hone, O hone.

Bid me leave off my Cryes,

And Swear no more Plot-Lies.

Then ſtreight away he hies:

O hone, O hone.

11.

Deel take this Swearing Trade,

O hone, O hone.

[Page]I'le go home to mee Spade:

O hone, O hone.

I'le fence the Patatoes round

And keep mee Maiſhters ground;

I am too long Hell-Hound.

O hone, O hone.

12.

My Book-buſſing Tribe adieu;

O hone, O hone.

It is now bad wid you:

O hone, O hone.

And if I 'ſcape the Hang,

I've out-done all my Gang;

And leave You here t'Swing Swang.

O hone, O hone.

Monarchy Tryumphant; or, the fatal fall of Rebels.

Tune, The King enjoys His own again.

WHigs are now ſuch precious things,

We ſee there's not one to be found;

All roar, God bleſs and ſave the King,

And the Health goes briskly all day round:

To the Souldier Cap in hand

The ſneaking Raſcals ſtand,

And wou'd put in for honeſt men;

But the King He well knows

His Friends from His Foes,

And now He enjoys His own again.

2.

From this Plots firſt taking air,

Like Lightning all the Whigs have run;

Nay, they've left their topping Square,

To march off with our eldeſt Son▪

They've left their States and Wives,

[Page]To ſave their precious Lives,

But who can blame their flying? when

'Twas plain to 'em all,

The great and the ſmall,

That the King wou'd have His own again.

3.

Since the King was thereabouts,

They all well knew their Heads were His;

So by help of ſuch like ſcouts

The Great Ones have yet eſcap'd His Phyſ.

His ſtern and Kingly look

There's few of them can brook,

Since fairly try'd, they know that then

The Hemp or ſharp Steel

They muſt all expect to feel,

Since the King enjoys His own again.

4.

This may chance a warning be,

(If e're the Saints will warning take)

To leave off hatching Villainy,

Since they've ſeen their Brethren at the ſtake,

And more muſt mounted be,

(Which God grant we may ſee)

Since Juries now are honeſt men;

And the King lets 'em ſwing

With a hey ding, ding, ding, ding,

Great Charles enjoys His own again.

5.

Once they voted, That His Guards

A Nuiſance was, which now They find;

Since they ſtand betwixt the King

And the Treaſon that ſuch Dogs deſign'd:

'Tis They will you maul,

Though it coſt 'em a fall,

[Page]In ſpight of your moſt mighty Men;

For now they are allarm'd,

And all Loyalliſts well arm'd▪

Since the King enjoys His own again.

6.

To the King ſome Bumpers round,

Let's drink▪ my Lads, whilſt Life doth laſt;

He that at the Core's not found,

Shall be kick'd out without a taſt:

Since we're caſe-harden'd honeſt men,

Which makes their Crew mad,

But us Loyal hearts full glad,

That the King enjoys His own again.

The Plot and Plotters confounded; or, the down-fall of Whiggiſm.

Tune, Ah Jenny! 'tis your Eyn do kill.

1.

THe Plot (God wot)

Is now broke out,

Confound thoſe brought it in;

Let them be Damn'd,

(Beſides being ſham'd,)

Of their King-killing ſin;

Down, down with their General

Council and Collonel,

Joyner and Cobler of State,

Their Members of Parliament

Of the new Rump,

Let all Repent too late.

2.

Oh now you Whigs

Led up this Jig,

What is't you'l lead up next?

[Page]Why ſaith I hear

To Tyburn you gang,

For being beſide your Text▪

To Tyburn the High-born,

As well as the Cobler,

Concern'd in Plot ſo dire,

Muſt Hickle-te Pickle-te

Swing on a Row;

Pray God I am no Lyer.

3.

Did ever Fools

Set up ſuch Tools

That durſt not ſtand the ſho [...]k

Of being made,

Or being marr'd?

A pox on ſuch Bully-Rocks!

Fy, fy, fy, fy,

Fy, fy for ſhame,

Such Heroes run the pit,

It ſhews, God knows,

Their fear of blow [...],

And eke their want of wit.

4.

The King God bleſs,

The Queen no leſs,

The Duke and Dutcheſs too;

The Lady Anne,

with Her good Man,

And all the Royal Crew:

Let thoſe that love

The King be bleſs'd,

And thoſe that hate Him curs'd;

Let Tories ſwim

In Claret, and

The Whigs be choakt with thirſt.

Whig upon Whig; or a Pleaſant diſmal SONG on the old Plotters newly found out.

[Page]

Tune, O hone, &c.

1.

BEloved hearken all,

O hone, O hone.

To my ſad Rhimes that, ſhall

O hone, O hone.

Be found in Dity ſad,

Which makes Me almoſt mad,

But Tories hearts full glad,

O hone, O hone.

2.

Eſſex has cut his Throat,

O hone, O hone.

Ruſſel is Guilty found,

O hone, O hone.

Walcot being of the Crew,

And Hone the Joyner too,

Muſt give the Devil his due,

O hone, O hone.

3.

Rumſey ſwears heartily,

O hone, O hone.

Weſt ſwears He does not lie,

O hone, O hone.

L. H—d vows by's Troth,

That they are good Men both,

And take the ſelf ſame Oath,

O hone, O hone.

4.

I heard ſome People ſay,

O hone, O hone.

M—th is fled away,

O hone, O hone.

[Page]And ſome do not ſtick to ſay,

If He falls in their way,

He will have damn'd fair play,

O hone, O hone.

5.

Armſtrong and Gray Got wot,

O hone, O hone.

And Ferguſon the Scot,

O hone, O hone.

Are all run God knows where,

'Cauſe ſtay they dare not here,

To fix the Grand Affair,

O hone, O hone.

6.

Juries (alaſs) are thus,

O hone, O hone.

There's no Ignoramus,

O hone, O hone.

But You'l have Juſtice done,

To evr'y mothers Son,

And be Hang'd one by one.

O hone, O hone.

7.

Now how like Fools we look,

O hone, O hone.

Had we not better took

O hone, O hone.

Unto our Trades and Wives,

And have kept in our Hives,

Which might have ſav'd our Lives,

O hone, O hone.

8.

The King He ſays, that all

O hone, O hone.

[Page]That are found Guilty, ſhall

O hone, O hone.

Die by the Ax or Rope,

As they dy'd for the Pope;

Brethren there is no Hope.

O hone, O hone.

9.

The Siſters left behind,

O hone, O hone.

Muſt with Vile Tories Grind,

O hone, O hone.

And ſtill be at their Call,

To play at Up-tails-all;

Nay, to be Poxt and all.

O hone, O hone.

10.

The Tories now will Drink,

O hone, O hone.

The Kings Health with our Chink,

O hone, O hone.

Queen, Duke and Dutcheſs too,

And all the Loyal Crew.

Jerney Morblew, Morblew.

O hone, O hone.

The Whigs Droun'd in an Honeſt Tory Health.

To a pleuſant Tune.

1.

WEalth breeds Care; Love, Hope and Fear;

What does Love or Bus'neſs here,

While Bacchus's Navy doth appear?

Fight on, and fear not ſinking:

Fill it briskly to the Brim,

Till the flying Top-ſails ſwim,

[Page]We owe the firſt Diſcovery to Him

Of this great World of Drinking

2.

Grave Cabals, who States Refine,

Mingle their Debates with Wine;

Caeres and the God o'th' Vine

Make every great Commander:

Let ſober Sots ſmall Beer ſubdue,

The Wiſe and Valiant Wine do woe;

The Staggarite had the Honour too

To be Drunk with Alexander.

3.

Stand to your Arms! and now advance▪

A health to the Engliſh King of France,

And to the next of Boon Eſprance

By Bacchus and Apollo:

Thus in State I lead the Van;

Fall in your place by the Right-hand-man!

Beat Drum! march on! dub a dub, ran dan!

He's a Whig that will not follow.

4.

Face about to the Right again,

Britains Admiral of the Main,

York, and His Illuſtrious Train

Crown the days Concluſion:

But a Halter ſtop his Throat

Who brought in the foremoſt Vote,

And of all that did promote

The Myſtery of Excluſion.

5.

Next to Denmark's War-like Prince▪

Let the following Health commence;

To the Nymph whoſe Influence

Brought the Hero hither:

[Page]May their Race the Tribe annoy,

Who the Grandſire would deſtroy,

And get every year a Boy

Whilſt they are together.

6.

To the Royal Family

Let us cloſe in Bumpers three;

May the Ax and [...]alter be

The Pledge of every Roundhead:

To all Loyal Hearts purſue,

Who to the Monarch dare prove true;

But for Him they call [...]rue blew,

Let him be confounded.

An excellent new Song on the late Victories over the Turks.

To a very Pleaſant New Tune.

1.

HArk! the thundring Canons roar,

ecchoing from the German ſhore,

And the joyful News comes o' [...] ▪

The Turks are all confounded;

Lorrain comes, they run, they run;

Charge your Horſe through the grand half-moon

We'l quarter give to none,

Since Staremberg is wounded.

2.

Cloſe your Ranks, and each brave Soul

Take a luſty flowing Bowl,

A grand Carouſe to th' Royal [...]le,

The Empires brave Defender;

No man leave his Poſt by ſtealth,

Plunder the Grand Viſiens Wealth,

But drink a Helmet full to th' Health ▪

Of the ſecond Alexander.

[Page]

3.

Mahomet was a ſober Dog,

A ſmall Beer drouzy ſenſeleſs rogue,

The Juice of the Grape ſo much in vogue

To forbid to thoſe Adore him;

Had he but allow'd the Vine,

Given'em leave to carouze in Wine

The Turk had ſafely paſt the Rhine,

And conquer'd all before him.

4.

With dull Tea they ſought in vain,

Hopeleſs Vict'ry to obtain,

Where ſprighty Wine fills ev'ry Vein;

Succeſs muſt needs attend him;

Our Brains, (like our Canons) warm

With often Firing, feels no harm,

While the ſober ſot flies the Alarm,

No Lawrel can befriend him.

5.

Chriſtians thus with Conqueſts Crown'd,

Conqueſt with the Glaſs goes round,

Weak Coffee can't keep its ground,

Againſt the force of Claret:

Whilſt we give them thus the Foyl,

And the Pagan Troops Recoyl,

The Valiant Poles divide the Spoyl,

And in brisk Nectar ſhare it.

6.

Infidels are now o'recome,

But the moſt Chriſtian Turks at home

Watching the Fate of Chriſtendom,

But all his hopes are ſhallow;

Since the Poles have led the Dance,

Let Engliſh Caeſar now advance,

[Page]And if he ſends a Fleet to France,

He's a Whig that will not follow.

Tangiers Lamentation on the Demoliſhing and Blowing up of the Town, Caſtle and Citadel ▪

Tune, Tangier March.

1.

LEt the Moors repine,

Their hopes reſign,

Now the Pagan Troops are cheated▪

Let Foot and Horſe

Disband their Force,

Since Tangier is defeated:

Alas Tangier! what ſudden Doom

Hath wrought this alteration,

That thus thy March ſhould now become

Thy fatal Lamentation?

2.

Now, alas Tangier!

That coſt ſo dear

In Money, Lives, and Fortunes,

See how the States,

The kinder Fates,

For thy own Fate importunes:

Had this been plotted by the Moors,

Alas! it were no matter;

But blown up thus by thy own Store,

Thou [...]dſt better ſwem in Water.

3.

The old Port, Tangier,

Where for good Cheer

We never paid Extortion;

Which, whilſt it ſtood,

War once thought good

To be a Monarchs Portion.

[Page]Whilſt Engliſh Hearts Thy Walls poſſeſt,

They ſcorn'd e'r to ſurrender,

Now to the Foe is left a Neſt

For Serpents to engender.

4.

Alas! what now

Muſt the Sea-men do,

When they come aſhore to Lord it,

For a little Freſh Store,

And a little Freſh Whore?

Which Tangier ſtill afforded▪

No Ambuſcade of Treacherous Moor,

Nor ſhall Ben Otter's Highneſs

Court any more the Britiſh Shoar,

To try the Ladies kindneſs.

5.

It would grieve your heart,

Should I impart

The Gold and precious Matter

That lies oppreſt

In every Cheſt

Drown'd underneath the Water;

But now the Mold that forc'd the Main,

The Mold ſo gay and bonny,

Is with the Cheſts blown up again▪

But ne'r a Croſs of Money.

6.

Of how many Souls,

And large Punch-bowls,

Has this been the undoing?

How many Tun

Of precious Coyn

Lie buried in the Ruine?

Had this been done ſome years ago,

[Page]Of Horſemen and Poſtillions,

'T had ſav'd ſome thou and Lives the blow,

And ſav'd beſides ſome Millions.

7.

When the Pile took fire

Above the Spire,

I wiſh (for th' good o'th' Nation)

The Walls well cramm'd,

With Rebels ramm'd

Of the [...]ſſociation:

All Bethells of a Commonwealth,

Each ſullen Whig and Trimmer,

That boggle at a Loyal Health,

Yet will not bawk a Brimmer.

8.

Now Heav'n preſerve

(While Rebels ſtarve)

The King and's Royal Brother,

While Traytors fly,

And others die,

Impeaching one another:

That Gracious Prince that values more

His Subjects Lives and Pleaſure,

Than all the Wealth of Africks ſhoar,

And Tangiers buried Treaſure.

The Hiſtory of Whiggiſm, From their Riſe, to their late horrid and unparallel'd Conſpiracy.

Tune, When the Stormy Winds do Blow.

1.

YOu Calviniſts of England,

Who ſurfeit with your Eaſe,

And ſtrive to make us Whigland,

To breed a foul Diſeaſe:

[Page]Hearken you painted Saints,

For we will let you know,

Oh, the Cares and the Fears

That by you Whigs do grow!

The firſt of your pretenſions

When that you did begin,

Were gloſs'd with good Intentions,

But falſe at Heart within:

No Faith in you was ever found,

That Truth we plainly know,

Oh the Cares and the Fears

That by you Whigs do grow.

Queen Elizabeth ſhe did deſcry,

And ſoon found what you were;

She made fit Laws againſt you

By Parliament appear;

Which late you'd have Repealed,

But juſt Charles too well did know,

All the Cares and the Fears

That by you Whigs do grow!

Such Locuſts in the Nation

King James could never love;

Wherefore he thought diſcretion

T'adviſe his Son t'diſprove

Of all your falſe pretended Zeal;

For wiſely he did know,

Oh, the Cares and the Fears

That by you Whigs do grow!

When beſt of Kings and Princes

Did give your hearts deſire,

Yet you were not contented,

To th' Crown you did aſpire;

[Page]You ſaid, you'd make him Great,

Indeed you did do ſo;

But oh, the Cares and the Fears

Attends ſuch Winds that blow!

On the Mitre you did trample

To make your ſelves more high,

With greater force to give the ſtroke

Againſt His Majeſty:

Ah! falſe and trayterous Tekelites,

Such ways to let us know

The great Cares and the Fears

That by you Whigs do grow!

The Whig he then ſtood rampant,

To us he gave his Laws;

Yet ſuch he dare not vaunt on't,

So ſharp we felt his Claws:

YOu then laid open what you were,

And ſmartly made us know

Oh, the Cares and the Fears

That by you Whigs do grow!

The Bleſſed Martyrs Royal Son,

Whom Heav'n guarded ſure,

And made us happy by's Return,

Him you could not endure:

Againſt His Life you did conſpire,

And Mighty James alſo;

Oh, the Cares and the Fears

That by you Whigs do grow!

Peace, Plenty, and all that's good,

Through His Conduct we have:

Ungrateful Souls! to ſeek his Blood▪

Who ſeeks us for to ſave;

[Page]And by your late Rebellious ways

Again to make us know,

Oh, the Cares and the Fears

That by you Whigs do grow!

With furious Zeal you do inflame,

And cauſe our Countreys burn:

You work Confuſion, but the blame

On Innocents you turn▪

Your holy Maſque is dropping off,

God grant it may do ſo,

And ſtop the Cares and the Fears

That by you Whigs do grow.

May Colledge, Rouſe, and Hone, their Fate

On Traytors all attend:

What though i [...] ſeems a little late?

Yet ſtill we know your end.

[...]uſt Vengeance does not ſleep,

Though you do think it ſo;

You'll have your ſhares of the Cares

That by you Whigs do grow.

Long live great Charles our pious King

Who cares when we do ſleep,

To keep ſtill ſafe under his Wing

From Ravenous Wolves his Sheep:

He us preſerves from Bears Clutch▪

The Lyons Jaw alſo,

And from all Cares and all Fears

That by you Whigs do grow

The Whigs▪ hard Heart the cauſe of the hard Froſt.

[Page]

Tune, Oh London! Th'adſt better have built new Bordello's, &c.

1.

YE Whigs and Diſſenters, I charge you attend,

Here is a ſad ſtory, as ever was told:

The River of Thames, that once was your Friend,

Is frozen quite over with Ice very cold;

And Fiſh which abounded,

Tho' they can't be drownded,

For lack of their Liquor, I fear are confounded

Then leave your Rebellious & damn'd Presbytering,

Or you may be glad of Poor-Jack & Red-herring.

2.

Now, had it been frozen with Brimſtone and Fire,

The wonder had been much deeper at bottom;

Tho' ſome do believe your Sins do require

A Puniſhment great as e'r fell upon Sodom:

But then the poor Fiſh

Had been dreſs'd to your Diſh,

And, ſtead of a Plague, you had then had your wiſh;

Pikes, Flounders, together with Gudgeons and Roaches,

Had ſerved for the Luxury of theſe Debauche [...]s.

3.

But, alas! to inſtruct ye this Froſt now is ſent,

As if it would ſhew ye your Conſciences harden'd;

And if each Mothers-child make not haſt to repent,

How the Devil d'ye think ye ſhall ever be pardon'd

'Tis a very ſad Caſe,

As ever yet was,

That the River ſhould ſuffer for every Aſs!

[Page]Poor Thames! thou mayſt curſe the foul Lake of Geneva,

For whoſe faults Thou doſt penance, ſans hope of Reprieve-a.

4.

This Thames, (O ye Whigs!) brought ye Plenty & Pride,

So ye harden'd your hearts with your Silver and Gold

But if ever ye hope to redeem Time or Tide,

[...]ot muſt your Repentance, your Zeal muſt be cold;

Your damn'd hungry Zeal

For rank Commonweal

Will hurry ye headlong all down to the Deel;

Then melt your hard hearts, and your tears ſpread abroad.

As ever ye hope that your Thames ſhall be Thaw'd.

5.

Make haſt, and be ſoon reconcil'd to the Truth,

Or you may lament it, both old men and young;

For, ſuppoſe ev'ry Shop ſhould be turn'd to a Booth

Oh, were it not ſad to be told with a tongue!

Should Cheapſide advance

Up to Pety-France,

And Londons Guild-hall up to Weſtminſter dance;

O, what would become of your wealthy brave Chamber,

If it were forc'd ſo far Weſtward to clamber?

6.

C [...]ck ſhops with roſt Victuals, and Taverns with Wine,

Already are ſeen on the River with plenty,

[...]hich are fill'd ev'ry morning before ye can dine,

By Two's and by Three's, I may truly ſay Twenty;

Jack, Tom, Will, and Hary.

Nan, Sue, Doll, and Mary,

Come there to devour Plum-Cakes and Canary:

[Page]And if with their Dancing & Wine they be tir'd,

For a Teſter a piece there's a Coach to be hir'd.

7.

There's Ginger-bread, Small-Cole, and hot Pudding-pies,

With Bread & Cheeſe, Brandy & good Ale & Beer:

Beſides the Plum-Cakes too, there's large Cakes of Ice,

Enough to invite him that will come here;

All which does betide

To puniſh your Pride;

Y'are plagu'd now with Ice, 'cauſe you love to back-ſlide:

Methinks if ſhould warn you to alter your ſtation.

For y'ave hitherto built on a ſlippery Foundation.

8.

Ye Merchants to Greenland, now leave off your ſailing,

And for your Tr [...]in-Oyl you [...]ſelves never ſolicit;

For there is no fear of your Merchandiſe failing,

Since the Whales, I [...]m afraid, mean to give us a viſit:

The great Leviathan

May ſail to England,

To ſee a worſe Monſter the Presbyterian.

Was ever a Vengeance ſo wonderful ſhewn,

That a River ſo great ſhould be turn'd to a Town?

The Swearers Chorus to the Presbyterian Plot.

Tune, The merry Beggers, &c.

1.

THere was a Monſtruous Doctor;

This Doctor had no Peer,

A Rogue from his Cradle

And bred to Lie and Swear;

And a Swearing we will go, will go, will go,

And a Swearing we will go.

2.

A Bag for my Pilgrims ▪

Another for Black Bills,

[Page]Ten thouſand blank Commiſſions

To move as many Hills:

And a Swearing we will go, &c.

3.

A Bag for my Sallery,

From every Fool ſuborns,

Three brawny Bums to follow me,

And bugger them by turns:

And a Bugg ring we will go, &c.

4.

A Bag for my Plunder,

Sir William's on the ſcent;

The Pole did n [...]er ſo thunder

In the Grand Vizier's Tent:

And a Pundring we will go, &c.

5.

A Bag for my Necklace,

Another for my Plate;

And all ſhall be Fiſh

That comes in Waller's Net;

And a Plund'ring we will go, &c.

6.

A Bag for my Piſtols ▪

And Conſecrated Knives,

And one for Tormentillio's,

T'fright Fools out of their Lives:

And a Plotting we will go, &c.

7.

A Bag for the Parſon,

Another for Don John;

Though I ſwore like a Whoreſon,

Yet ſtill I did ſwear on:

And a Swearing we will go, &c.

[Page]

8.

Through four and twenty Key-holes

I ſally'd like a Witch,

And through as many Brick-walls

I'll ſwear I went through-ſtitch:

And a Swearing I did go, &c.

9.

To Lambeth we will go,

Where we firſt made the Plot;

While Prance and I can ſwear and lie,

They all ſhall go to pot:

And a Plotting we will go, &c.

10.

Then we'l to Godfrey go,

And find Him kill'd o'th' ſpot,

And ſwear the Papiſts did it,

To make a Popiſh-Plot:

And a Murd'ring we will go, &c.

11.

A Gown I have for ſhew

Amongſt the Clergy grave,

And, when I pleaſe, a Cloak

To hide the double Knave:

And a Plotting we will go, &c.

12.

I had a pretty knack,

To Wheedle, Swear and Lye,

By the Rebellious Rabble

How much admir'd was I!

And a Swearing we will go &c.

13.

In fair London Town

I live, and pay no Rent;

The Brethren they provide for me,

[Page]And I am well content:

And a Swearing we will go, &c.

14.

Of all Occupations

The Swearer is moſt bleſt;

For when he ſwears moſt falſly,

He's always paid the beſt:

And a Swearing we will go, &c.

15.

I fear no Plot againſt me,

Although the Whigs rebel;

Then who would be honeſt,

Since ſuch Rogues fare ſo well?

And a Plotting we will go, will go, will go;

And a Plotting we will go.

A New SONG.

Tune, I'll tell thee, Dick, &c.

CHil tell thee, Tom, the ſtrangeſt ſtory,

Becauſe thou art an honeſt Tory;

'Tis News beyond expreſſions:

Zich zights are no where to be zeen

In any Lond, (God zave the Queen)

But at our Quarter-Seſſions.

Vor Rogues I zaw in zich a place,

As wou'd the Gibbet quite diſgrace,

'Tis pity it ſhou'd want 'em:

But how the Devil they came there,

Liſt, Tom, and chil in brief declare

And how they did recant 'em,

When I was late at London Town,

To zee zome zights e [...]r I went down,

To White-hall I did venture;

And having on my beſt Array,

[Page]As vine as on a Holy-day,

Zoors I made bold to enter.

Up ſtairs I went, which were as brooad,

And Dirty too as any Rooad,

Or as the ſtreets o'th' Zity.

Hadſt thou been there, thou wouldſt have ſaid

His Majeſty had kept no Maid,

Gods zooks, and that's a pity.

When I was up, I did diſcern

A Chamber bigger than a Barn,

Where I did ſee Voke ſtand,

That I was well near vrighted quite,

It was ſo ſtrange and grim a zight,

With long things in their hand.

Their Cloathing cannot well be told,

on which were things of beaten Gold

Upon their Back and Breaſt;

I doft my Hat when I came in,

Quoth I, Pray which of you's the King?

Which made a woundy Jeſt.

At laſt came by a Gentlemon,

Who made me zoon to underſtond

I need not be avear'd;

Quoth he, Come on, and vollow me,

Chil ſhew thee ſtraight His Majeſty;

Vor theaſe are but His Guard.

But, Tom, not any Wake or Vair

Can ſhew zich numbers as are there,

Still cringing low, and bowing,

That I may zwear, and tell no lie,

They wearier are, than Thou or I

With Thraſhing or with Plowing.

[Page]

No Ants do vaſter lead or drive,

Or Bees buz to or fro' the Hive,

I ma [...]l they were not dizzy;

And zure the Nations great Avairs

Lay heavily upon their Cares,

They look'd zo wiſe and buſie.

At laſt came in His Majeſty,

Not taller much than Thou or I;

Yet, whatzoe'r I ail'd,

With only gazing on his Vace,

I trembl'd like a Love-zick Laſs

Juſt on the point to yield.

He look'd, methought, above the reſt,

Tho not by half zo vinely dreſt,

Which made me vall a zwearing,

A Pox upon the Parliament,

That will not let us pay him Rent,

Gold's only for his wearing

A Ribbon vine came croſs avore,

Zich as our Landlords bridemen wore

At end of which was hung

A curious thing, that ſhone as bright

As Maudlin's eyes, or morning light,

When guilded by the Zun,

But now the news, chil tell thee Truth,

Hard by hi [...] zide there ſtood a Youth,

That look [...]d as trim and gay,

As if de had not guilty bin

Of wiſhing e'r to be a King,

Unleſs a King of May.

It was the zame our Vicar zed

Vor Treaſon ſhou'd have laſt his Head,

Vor which [...]ive hundred Pound

[Page]By Proclamation offer'd was

To any that ſhou'd take his Grace

In any Kerſon ground.

Won Zunday morn, thou maiſt remember,

I think the twantieth of Zeptember,

Our Parſon read a thing,

How this zame Spark, (a vengeance on him!)

With vorty moor, did take upon him

To kill our Gracious King.

But ſcant the vrighted harmleſs Zwain,

That meets a Wolf upon the Plain,

Was ſo agaſt with vear:

Wounds! if His Majeſty (quoth I)

Does keep no better Company,

Chil ſtay no longer here.

With that, the Mon that brought me in

By th' Jacket pull'd me back again;

Quoth he, Pray hear ye reaſon;

He was a What-d'ye-cal't, 'tis true,

But [...]s Pardon makes him vree as you

Vrom Knavery or Treaſon.

Whaw, whaw! quoth I, a pretty Nick,

To make Rogues honeſt by a trick

Zo often try'd in vain:

As if my Bull ſhou'd gore me once▪

I'd truſt the zenſeleſs Beaſt with Horns

To gore me o'r agen.

Chil e'en to Devonſhire agen,

Where honeſt men are honeſt men,

And Rogues are hang'd v [...]r Rogues.

Ods wounds! were I His Majeſty,

E'r zich a Zon ſhou'd counten [...]nc [...]d be,

Chi'd prize him as my Dogs.

Ʋnfortunate Jockey; or, Jenneys Lamentation for the loſs of Jockey.

[Page]

A pleaſant Tune, ſung in the Play call'd, The Royaliſt.

1.

TWa bony Lads were Sawny and Jockey,

Sawny was lewd, and Jockey unluckey,

Sawney was tall, well favour'd, and witty,

But I'ſe in my heart thought Jockey more prety

For when he ſu'd me, woo'd me, and view'd me,

Never was lad ſo like to undo me,

Fie I cry'd, and almoſt dy'd,

Leſt Jockey ſhould gang and come no more to me.

2.

Jockey would love, but he would not marry,

And I'ſe had a dread that I'ſe ſhould miſcary

His cunning Tongue with wit was ſo guilded,

That I'ſe was afraid my heart would have yielded

For daily he preſs'd me, kiſs'd me, and bleſs'd me,

Loſt was the hour methought when he miſt me,

Crying, denying, and ſighing, I woo'd him,

And muckle ado I had to get fro him.

3.

But cruel Fate rob'd me of my Jewel,

For Sawny would make him fight in Duel,

And down in a Dale with Cypreſs ſurrounded,

Ha! there to his death poor Jockey was wounded

But when he thrill'd him, fell'd him, kill'd him,

Who could expreſs my grief that beheld him?

Raging, I tore my Hair for to bind him,

And vow'd and ſwore ne'r to ſtay behind him.

4.

I ſigh'd and ſob'd until I was weary,

To think my poor Jockey ſhould ſo miſcarry,

And never was any in ſuch a ſad taking

[Page]As hapleſs Jenny, whoſe heart is ſtill a king,

To think how I croſt him, toſt him & loſt him;

Too late it was to coyn words to accoſt him,

Alone then I ſate lamenting and crying,

Still wiſhing each minute that I were a dying.

5

Ah! Jockey ſince thou behind thee haſt left me,

And death of all joys and all comforts bereft me,

Thy deſtiny I will lament very mickle

And down my pale cheeks ſalt Tears they ſhall trickle;

To eaſe me of trouble each bubble ſhall double,

To think of my Jockey ſo Loyal and Noble,

I'ſe grieve for to think that thoſe eyes are benighted

Wherein mournful Jenny ſo much once delighted

6.

That blow oh Sawny was baſe and unlucky,

That robbed poor Jenny of her deareſt Jockey,

A bony boon Youth 'twas known he was ever

To pleaſe his poor Jenny was ſtill his endeavor;

But 'twas fortune uncertain, our parting,

Procured & cauſed this breaking & ſmarting,

But whilſt I do live 'tis reſolved by Jenny,

For Jockeys dear ſake ne'r to lig with any.

7.

This Jenny for Jockey lay ſighing and weeping,

Oft wringing her hands while others was ſleeping

But Sawney to ſee her thus ſtrangely diſtreſſed,

For the loſs of her Love, his heart was oppreſſed,

Tho' this deluder, view'd her, and ſued her,

'Twas all but in vain, for ſhe call'd him Intruder

And ſaid, if you die for my Love I will mock ye,

For you were the cauſe of the death of my Jockey.

8.

That bony brave Scot hath left nene behind him,

[Page]That like to himſelf was worthy of minding,

[...]is Fathers delight, and the joy of his Mother;

And Scotland before ne'r bred ſike another,

When I think on his beauty, let duty confute ye.

Death never before had ſike a great booty,

For all that do know him, do ſigh & bewail him,

But Oceans of Tears now can little avail him.

9.

Ah! Jockey there's nene that are left to inherit

The tythe of thy Virtues, thou wonderful merit,

But whilſt I do live thou ſhalt not be forgotten,

He ſing out thy praiſe when thy carkaſs is rotten

For thou wert the faireſt, rareſt, and deareſt,

And now thou art dead like a Saint thou appeareſt,

I'll have on thy Tomb-ſtone theſe Verſes inſerted,

Here lies hopeleſs Jockey, who was ſo true hearted.

10.

And when this thy Motto ſhall fairly be written,

There's none ſhall read but with grief ſhall be ſmitten

And ſay't was pity that one ſo true hearted

Should by cruel death from his Jenny be parted.

And thus I with weeping, creeping, and peeping

Look into thy Grave where thou doſt lie ſleeping

Till ſighing my ſelf I have brought to my end,

To ſhow that poor Jenny was Jockeys true Friend.

The Wincheſter Wedding; or, Ralph of Redding, and Black Beſs of the Green.

To a new Country Dance: or, the King's Jigg [...]

1.

AT Wincheſter was a Wedding,

the like was never ſeen

Twixt luſty Ralph of Redding,

and bony black Beſs of the Green ▪

[Page]The Fidlers were Crowding before,

each Laſs was as fine as a Queen,

There was a Hundred and more,

for all the Country came in:

Brisk Robin led Roſe ſo fair,

ſhe lookt like a Lilly o'th'Vale,

And Ruddy-fac'd Harry led Mary,

And Roger led bouncing Nell.

2

With Tommy came ſmiling Katy,

he helpt her over the Stile,

And ſwore there was none ſo pretty,

in forty and forty long mile:

Kit gave a Green Gown to Betty,

and lent her his hand to riſe.

But Jenny was jeer'd by Watty,

for looking blew under the eyes:

Thus merrily chatting all,

they paſs'd to the Bride-houſe along

With Jonny and pretty fac'd Nanny,

the faireſt of all the Throng.

3.

The Bridegroom came out to meet 'em,

afraid the Dinner was ſpoil'd,

And uſher'd 'em in to Treat 'em,

with Bak'd, and Roaſted, and Boyl [...]d;

The Lads were ſo frolick and jolly,

for each had his Love by his ſide,

But Willy was Melancholly,

for he had a mind to the Bride:

Then Philip begins her Health,

and turns a Beer-Glaſs on his Thumb,

But Jenkin was reckon'd for Drinking,

the beſt in Chriſtendom.

[Page]

4.

And now they had Din'd, advancing

into the midſt of the Hall,

The Fidlers ſtruck up for Dancing,

and Jeremy led up the Brawl;

But Margery kept a quarter,

a Laſs that was proud of her pelf,

'Cauſe Arthur had ſtoln her Garter,

and ſwore he would tye it himſelf:

She ſtrugl'd and bluſht, and frown'd,

and ready with anger to Cry,

'Cauſe Arthur with tying her Garter,

had ſlip'd his hand too high.

5.

And now for throwing the Stocking,

the Bride away was led,

The Bridegroom got drunk was knocking

for Candles to light 'em to Bed:

But Robbin that found him ſilly,

moſt friendly took him aſide,

The vvhile that his Wife vvith Willy,

vvas playing at Hoopers-hide;

And novv the vvarm Game begins,

the Critical minute vvas come,

And Chatting, and Billing, and Kiſſing,

vvent merily round the Room.

6.

Pert Stephen vvas kind to Betty,

and blith as a Bird in the Spring,

And [...]ommy vvas ſo to Katy,

and Wedded her vvith a Ruſh Ring:

Sukey that Danc'd at the Cuſhion,

an hour from the Room had been gone,

And Barnaby knevv by her bluſhing,

[Page]that ſome other Dance had been done;

And thus of Fifty fair Maids,

that came to the Wedding vvith Men,

Scarce five of the Fifty vvas left ye,

that ſo did return again.

A Narrative of the Old Plot, being a New SONG.

Tune, Some ſay the [...]apiſts had a Plot, &c.

1.

WHen Traytors did at Pop [...]ry rail,

Becauſe it taught Confeſſion:

When Bankrupts bawl'd for Property,

And Baſtards for Succeſſion.

2.

When Tony durſt eſpouſe the Cauſe,

Spight of his Pox and Gout:

When Speaking Williams purg'd the Houſe

By ſpewing Members out.

3.

When Hunt a twy-fac't Pamphlet wrote,

the Embleme of his Soul:

When Oats ſwore whom he pleas'd in's Plot ▪

And reign'd without Controul.

4.

When L—ce too lampoon'd the Court,

And libell'd Cats and Doggs:

When Witneſſes, like Muſhroms, ſprung

Out of the Iriſh Boggs.

5.

Then Perkin thought 'twas time to prove

His Claim to Kingſhip fair;

And 'faith tis ſit the Peeples Son

Should be the Peoples Heir.

[Page]

6.

So fill'd with Zeal He and his Knight

Careſs and Court the Rout;

And my Lord Duke goes up and down

To ſhew his Grace about.

7.

Tho' F—d Lord G—y would not ingage

Upon that idle ſcore;

For He would have a Common-wealth,

As well as Common whore.

8.

He envy [...]d his old Friend a Crown

But why I can't deviſe;

For's Grace had grac't his Lordſhips head

With Horns of noble Size.

9.

Then Johnſon wrote his Patrons Creed,

A Doctrine fetch't from Hell:

'Twas Chriſtian-like to diſobey,

And Goſpel to Rebel.

10.

Julian his Pattern and his Text;

A meaner Theam He ſcorns:

Firſt repreſents Him at the Desk,

And then Apoſtate turns.

11.

Like his, his Patrons Zeal grew high,

Th' Excluſion to advance;

And the right Heir muſt be debarr'd,

For fear of Rome and France.

12.

The Zealous Commons then reſolv'd,

(And they knew what they did)

By whomſoe're the King ſhould fall,

The Papiſts throats ſhould bleed▪

[Page]

13.

So murd'ring Ponyards off are ſlipt

Into a guiltleſs hand:

And Innocence is ſacrific'd,

Whilſt Malefactors ſtand.

14.

By Hell's Aſſiſtance then they fram'd

Their Damn'd Aſſociation:

And Worthy Men, and Men Worthy,

Divided all the Nation

15.

Fools oft and Madmen leave the leſs,

And chooſe the greater evil:

Thus They for fear of Popery,

Run head-long to the Devil.

16.

At laſt the Loyal Souls propoſe

To eaſe their Sovereign's Cares;

If He'll ſit down, and firſt remove

Their Jealouſies and Fears.

17.

Juſt the old Trick and Sham Device

Of Belzebub their Sire:

He but fall down and worſhip Them,

They'll grant his hearts deſire.

18.

Nay Lives and Fortunes then ſhall be

Entirely all his own;

If He will fairly once diſclaim

A Brother and a Crown.

The Praiſe of the Dairy-Maid, with a Lick at the Cream-pot, or Fading Roſe.

[Page]

Tune, Packington's Pound.

1.

LEt Wine turn a Spark, & Ale huff like a Hector.

Let Pluto drink Coffee, & Jove his rich Nector.

Neither Cider nor Sherry,

Metheglin nor Perry,

Shall more make me Drunk, which the vulgar call Merry:

Theſe Drinks o're my Fancy no more ſhall prevail

But I'll take a full ſoop at the mery Milk-Pail.

2.

In praiſe of a Dairy I purpoſe to ſing;

But all things in order; firſt God ſave the King,

And the Queen I may ſay,

That ev'ry May-day,

Has many fair Dairy-Maids all fine and gay.

Aſſiſt me, fair Dam'ſels to finiſh this Theme,

And inſpire my fancy with Strawberries & Cream

3.

The firſt of fair Dairy-Maids, if you'll believe,

Was Adam's own Wife, your Great-grand-mother Eve;

She milk'd many a Cow,

As well ſhe knew how,

Tho' Butter was then not ſo cheap as 'tis now;

She hoarded no Butter nor Cheeſe on a Shelf,

For the Butter and Cheeſe in thoſe days made it ſelf.

4.

In that Age or Time there was no damn'd Money,

Yet the Children of Iſrael fed on Milk & Honey;

No Queen you could ſee

Of the higheſt Degree,

But would milk the brown Cow with the meaneſt ſhe

[Page]Their Lambs gave them Cloathing, their Cows gave them Meat.

In a plentiful Peace all their Joys were compleat.

5.

But now of the making of Cheeſe we ſhall treat,

That Nurſer of Subjects, bold Britains chief Meat.

When they firſt begin it,

To ſee how the Rennet

Begets the firſt Curd, you wou'd wonder what's in it.

Then from the blue Whey, when they put the Curds by.

They look juſt like Amber, or Clouds in the Sky.

6.

Your Turkey Sherbet, and Arabian Tea,

Is Diſh-water-ſtuff to a Diſh of new Whey;

For it cools Head and Brains,

Ill Vapours it drains,

And tho' your Guts rumble, 'twill [...]e'r hurt your Brains.

Court-Ladies i'th morning will drink a whole Pottle,

And ſend out their Pages with Tankard & Bottle.

7.

Thou Daughter of Milk, and Mother of Butter,

Sweet Cream, thy due praiſes how ſhall I utter!

For when at the beſt,

A thing's well expreſt,

We are apt to reply, That's the Cream of the Jeſt:

Had I been a Mouſe, I believe in my Soul

I had long ſince been drown'd in a Cream-Bowl.

8

The Elixir of Milk, the Dutch-mens delight,

By motion and tumbling thou bringeſt to light;

But Oh, the ſoft Stream

That remains of the Cream!

[...]

[Page]

[...]

[Page]

[Page]Old Morpheus ne'r taſted ſo ſweet in a Dream;

It removes all Obſtructions, depreſſes the Spleen,

And makes an old Bawd like a Wench of Fifteen.

9.

Amongſt the rare Virtues that Milk does produce

A thouſand more Dainties are daily in uſe;

For a Pudding I'll tell ye,

E'r it goes in the Belly,

Muſt have good Milk, both the Cream & the Jelly;

For a dainty fine Pudding without Cream or Milk

Is like a Citizen's Wife without Satten or Silk.

10.

In the Virtues of Milk there's more to be muſter'd

The charming delights of Cheeſe-Cake and Cuſtard;

For at Totenam-Court

You can have no Sport,

Unleſs you give Cuſtards and Cheeſe-Cakes for't:

And what's Jack Pudding that makes us to laugh,

Unleſs he hath got a great Cuſtard to quaff.

11.

Both Pan-Cakes & Fritters of Milk have good ſtore

But a Devonſhire Whit-pot requires much more.

No ſtate you can [...]hink,

Tho' you ſtudy and wink,

From the luſty Sack-poſſet to poor Poſſet-drink;

But Milk's the Ingredient, tho' Sack's ne'r the worſe;

For 'tis Sack makes the Man, tho' Milk makes the Nurſe,

12.

But now I ſhall treat of a Diſh that is cool,

A rich clouted Cream, or a Gooſe-berry-Fool;

A Lady I heard tell,

Not far off did dwell,

Made her Husband a Fool, and yet pleas'd him full well:

[Page]Give thanks to the Dairy then every Lad,

That from good-natur'd Women ſuch Fools may be had.

13.

When the Dam'sel has got the Cows Teat in her hand

How ſhe merily ſings, while ſmiling I ſtand

Then with pleaſure I rub,

Yet impatient I crub,

When I think of the Bleſſings of a Syllabub:

Oh Dairy-maids, Milk-maids, ſuch Bliſs ne'r oppoſe.

If e'r you'll be happy; I ſpeak under the Roſe.

14.

This Roſe was a Maiden once of your Profeſſion,

Till the Rake and the Spade had taken poſſeſſion;

At length it was ſaid,

That one Mr. Edmond

did both dig and ſow in her Parſley bed;

But the Fool for his labour deſerves not a Ruſh,

For grafting a Thiſtle upon a Roſe-buſh.

15.

Now Milk Maids, take warning by this Maidens fall.

Keep what is your own, and then you keep all;

Mind well your Milk-pan,

And ne'r touch a man,

And you'll ſtill be a Maid, let him do what he can.

I am your Well-wiſher, then liſt to my word,

And give no more Milk than the Cow can afford

A new SONG Sung before the Loyal Livery-Men in Wiſtminſter-hall July the 19th. 16 [...].

1.

HArk! how Noll & B [...]adſhaw's Heads above us

Cry, come, come, ye Whigs that love us:

Come, ye faithful Sons, fall down, and adore ye

Your Fathers, whoſe Glory

[Page]Was to kill Kings before ye;

From Treaſon & Plots let your grave Heads adjourn,

And our glorious Pinacle adorn.

What though the Scaffolds all are down here,

To entertain the Friends of the Crown here?

We, whoſe Lives & whoſe Fortunes Great Charles will maintain,

For Monarchy-haters,

Damn'd Aſſociators,

Whigs, Baſtards and Traytors,

We'll build 'em, we'll build 'em again,

Let the infamous Cut threats of Princes be ſhamm'd all.

Their black Souls be damn'd all,

Their Blunderbuſs ramm'd all

With Brimſtone and Fire infernal;

The Gods that look o'r Him

Did by Wonders reſtore Him,

Their Angels ſate round Him

That hour they Crown'd Him,

And were liſted His Guards Eternal.

2.

How, like Jove, the Monarch of Great-Britain

Drives the Gyant-Sons of Titan!

Down ye Rebel-Crew; ye Slaves, lie under:

See! Charles with His Thunder

Has daſh'd 'em all aſunder;

Down from His bright Heav'n the Aſpirers are hurl'd,

Loſt in the common Rubbiſh of the World:

See, how the God returns Victorious!

And to make His Tryumph ſtill more Glorious,

See, the whole Hoſts of Heav'n the proud Conquerour meet.

The Stars burn all brighter,

The Sun mounts uprighter,

Whilſt his Steeds gallop lighter,

To ſee, ſee their Jove made ſo Great:

[Page]With the brands & the ſtings of a Conſcience diſloyal

From the fiery Tryal,

Let the Coward Slaves flie all,

Leave Vengeance and Gibbets behind 'em;

Whilſt the great Deſperadoes

All turn'd Renegadoes,

With their old Friends took napping,

In ſome Cole-hole at Wapping

Shall Charles and His Juſtice find 'em.

3.

Let the malice of Fanatick Roundhead

(Hatch'd in Hell) be ſtill confounded;

The Royal Brothers no Storm e're ſever,

But new Wonders deliver,

And their Heirs Reign for ever,

On Englands bright Throne ſit till Times laſt Sand runs,

And ſtop their Glories Chariot with the Suns.

Then for Charles's ſecond Reſtauration,

Snatch'd from the Jaws of the Imps of Damnation,

We with Feaſtings & Revels will chear up our Souls

For the ſafety of Caeſar,

In Joy, and in Pleaſure,

Till our Hearts ſhall o're-flow like our Bowls.

For a Health to Great Charles, let the Goblets be crown'd there,

The Huzza go round there,

To the Skies let it ſound there,

Up to th' Throne of Great Charles's Protector,

Till the pleas'd Gods that ſee, Boys,

Grow as Merry as we, Boys,

Joyn their Spheres in the Chorus,

Make their whole Heav'ns out-roar us,

And pledge us in Bumpers of Nectar.

[...]

[Page]

[...]

[Page]

A Narrative of the Popiſh-Plot, ſhewing the cunning contrivance thereof.

[Page]

Tune, Packington's Pound.

The Contents of the Firſt Part.

How Sir Godfrey is kill'd, his Body they hide,

Which brought out in Chair, a Horſeback does ride;

How Jeſuits disguis'd our Houſes to fire;

How ſubtly they Plot, and the King's death conſpire;

Of divers great Lords drawn in, to their Bane,

An Iriſh Army, and Pilgrims from Spain.

1.

GOod People, I pray you, give ear unto me.

A Story ſo ſtrange you have never been told

How the Jeſuit, Devil and Pope did agree

Our State to deſtroy, and Religion ſo old:

To murder our King,

A moſt horrible thing!

But firſt of Sir Godfrey his death I muſt ſing;

For howe'r they diſguiſs't, we plainly can ſee,

Who murdr'd that Knight, no good Chriſtian cou'd be.

The truth of my Story if any man doubt,

We have Witneſſes ready to ſwear it all out.

2.

At Somerſet houſe, there is plain to be ſeen

A Gate which will lead you into the back-Court;

This place for the Murder moſt ſitting did ſeem,

For thither much People do freely reſort:

His Body they toſs'd

From Pillar to [...]oſt,

And ſhifted ſo often, t'had like t'have been loſt;

To which with dark-Lanthorn the Jeſuits did go,

But no ways diſtruſted our honeſt Bedlow.

The truth of my Story, &c

[Page]

3.

Leſt ſuch cloſe Contrivements at length might take air,

When as his dead Body corrupted did grow,

They quickly did find an inviſible Chair,

And ſet him on Horſe-back to ride at Sohoe:

His own Sword to th' Hilt.

To add to their Guilt,

They thruſt through his Body, but no blood was ſpilt;

T'have it thought he was kill'd by a Thief they did mean,

So they left all's Money, and made his Shoes clean.

The truth of my Story &c.

4.

To ſhew now th' exceſs of Jeſuitical Rage,

They this Loyal City to ruine would bring,

'Cauſe you Citizens are ſo religious and ſage,

And ever much noted as true to your King:

T'your Houſes they go

With Fire and with Tow,

Then pilfer your Goods, & 'tis well you 'ſcape ſo;

Y'have ſeen how they once ſet the Town all in flame;

Yet 'tis their beſt Refuge, if we believe Fame.

The Truth of my Story, &c.

5.

By Bedlow's Narration is ſhewn you moſt clear,

How Jeſuits diſguſs [...]d into Houſes will creep;

In a Porter's or Carman's Frock they appear,

Nay, will not diſdain to cry Chimney ſweep;

Or ſell you Small Cole,

Then drop in ſome hole

A Fire-Ball, or thruſt it up by a long Pole.

But I now muſt relate a more tragical thing,

How theſe Villains conſpir'd to Murder our King.

The Truth of my Story, &c.

[Page]

6.

At the White-horſe in April was their main Conſul [...] ▪

Where a Writing theſe Plotters wickedly frame;

The Death of our Sovereign was the reſult,

To which at leaſt Forty all ſigned their name:

They would not do that,

In the place where they ſat,

Truſty Oates muſt convey't from this man to that;

To make ſure work, by Poyſon the Deed muſt be done

And by a long Dagger, and ſhot from a Gun.

The truth of my Story. &c.

7.

For fear at St. Omers their Oates might be miſs'd,

They agreed with the Devil t'appear in his place,

In a Body of Air, (believe't if you liſt)

Which lookt juſt like Oats ▪ & mov'd with the ſame grace.

'T cou'd Plot, it cou'd Cant,

Turn eyes like a Saint,

And of our great Doctor no feature did want:

Thus hundreds might ſwear they ſaw Oates ev'ry day

But true Oats was here, and the Devil ſay they.

The truth of my Story, &c.

8.

From Father Oliva Commiſſions did come,

To raiſe a great Army much Treaſure is ſpent;

The old Man did once think to take Poſt from Rome

For to ride at the head of them was his intent;

Lord Bellas was ſit

(Who can deny it?

To command in his place, when his Gout wou'd permit;

Lord Stafford was proper'ſt to truſt with their pay

Old Ratcliffe to range them in Battle-Array.

The truth of my Story, &c.

[Page]

9.

Th' High-Treaſurers place the L. Powis did pleaſe,

(Men of desp'rate Fortunes oft venture too far;)

Lord Peters would hazard Eſtate, and his Eaſe,

And Life for the Pope too, in this holy War;

Lord Ar'ndel, of old

So war-like and bold,

Made choice of a Chancellors Gown we are told;

All theſe did conſpire with the Lord Caſtlemain,

Who now his good Dutcheſs will ne'r catch again

The Truth of my Story, &c.

10.

Great ſtore of wild Iriſh, both civil and wiſe,

Deſigned to joyn with the Pilgrims of Spain;

Many thouſands being ready all in good guiſe,

Had vow'd a long Pilgrimage over the Main;

To arm well this Hoſt

When it came on our Coaſt,

Black Bills forty thouſand are ſent by the Poſt,

This Army lay privately on the Sea ſhore,

And no man e'r heard of 'em ſince or before.

The Truth of my Story, &c.

The Second PART. The Contents of the ſecond Part.

Of Arms under-ground for Horſe and for Foot,

The King almoſt kill'd, but Gun will not ſhoot,

For which Pickring is whip'd. All of them ſwear

To be true to the Plot; yet Oats, not for Fear,

But Revenge, being turn'd away, and well hang [...]d,

Diſcovers them all; the Jeſuits are hang'd.

1.

The Plot being thus ſubtly contriv'd, as you hear,

To God knows how many this Secret th' impart;

[Page]Some famous for Cheats, yet their Faith they don't fear

To tie a Knave faſt they had found a new Art.

They ſwore on a Book,

And Sacrament took;

But you'll find, if into their grave Authors you look,

To forſwear [...]s no ſin (as th' Recorder well notes)

Nor Treaſon, Rebellion, nor cutting of Throats.

The Truth of my Story, &c.

2.

Still blinded by Zeal, and inveigl'd by Hope,

Store of Arms they provide for Fight & Defence;

The Lords muſt command as Vice-Roys of the Pope,

And all over England they raiſe Peter-pence:

Their Letters they ſend

By Bedlow their Friend,

Or elſe by the Poſt, to ſhew what they intend;

Some hundreds Oats ſaw, which the Jeſuits [...]id write

'Tis a wonder not one of them e'r came to light.

The truth of my Story, &c.

3.

Pounds two hundred thouſand they to Ireland ſent,

Fifteen thouſand to Wakeman for Potions and Pills,

Forty thouſand in Fire-works we gueſs that they ſpent,

And at leaſt ten thouſand for the 'foreſaid Black-Bills

Fifteen hundred more

Grove ſhou'd have, they ſwore,

Four Gentleman-Ruſſians deſerved Fourſcore;

Pious Pickering they knew was of Maſſes more fond;

And for thirty thouſand they gave him a Bond.

They truth of my Story, &c.

4

Theſe two, to kill the King by promiſes won,

Had now watch [...]d for ſome years in St. James's Park,

And Pickering (who never yet ſhot off a Gun)

[Page]Was about to take aim, for he had a fair mark;

Juſt going to begin't,

He miſſed his Flint,

And looking in Pan, there was no Powder in't;

For which he their Pardon does humbly beſeech,

Yet had thirty good laſhes upon his bare Breech.

The truth of my Story, &c.

5

But a ſadder miſchance to the Plot did befall,

For Oats their main Engine fail'd, when it came to't

No marvel indeed if he cozen'd them all,

Who turn'd him a begging and beat him to boot.

He wheeling about,

The whole Party did rout

And from lurking holes did ferret them out,

Till running himſelf blind; he none of them knew,

And fainting at Councel, he could not ſwear true.

The truth of my Story, &c.

6.

To ſtrengthen our Doctor, brave Bedlow's brought in,

A more credible Witneſs was not above-ground;

He vows and proteſts, what e'r he had been,

He wou'd not ſwear falſe now for five hundred pound

And why ſhould we ſwear,

They falſly would ſwear,

To damn their own Souls, and to loſe by it here;

For Oats, who before had no peny in Purſe

Diſcov'ring the Plot, was ſeven hundred pound worſe.

The truth of my Story, &c.

7▪

Two Witneſses more were let looſe from the Jayl,

Though one, 'tis confeſt, did run back from his word;

(In danger of life a good man may be frail)

And th' other they ſlander for cheating his Lord ▪

[Page]T'each one of theſe men

The Jeſuits brought Ten,

To diſprove em in time & in place; but what then?

One Circumſtance lately was ſworn moſt clear,

By a Man who in hopes has four hundred a year.

The truth of my Story, &c.

8.

Beſides 'twas oft urg'd, we muſt always ſuppoſe,

To murder the King a great Plot there has been;

And who to contrive it ſo likely as thoſe

Who Murder and Treaſons do hold for no ſin;

Things being thus plain,

To plead was in vain,

The Jury inſtructed again and again,

Did find them all Guilty, & to ſhew 'twas well done

The People gave a Shout for Victory won.

9.

'Tis ſtrange how theſe Jeſuits, ſo ſubtle and wiſe,

Should all 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 Indulgences raiſe them again?

The truth of my Story, &c.

1O.

Yet, like Mad men, of Life and Contempt they expreſs

And of their own happineſs careleſs appear;

For Life and for Money not one wou'd confeſs,

They'd rather be Damn'd than be Rich & live here.

But ſurely they rav'd,

When God they out-brav'd,

[Page]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, &c.

Concordat cum Kecordo Cl. Par.

A general Sale of Rebellious Houſhold-Stuff.

Tune, Old Simon the King.

1.

REbellion hath broken up Houſe,

And hath left me old Lumber to ſell;

Come hither and take your choice;

I'le promiſe to uſe you well.

Will you buy the old Speaker's Chair,

Which was warm, and eaſie to ſit-in,

And often-times hath been made clean,

When as it was fouler than ſitting,

Says old Symon the King,

Says old Symon the King,

With thread-bare Cloaths, and his mamſy Noſe,

Sing hey ding, ding, a ding ding.

2.

Will you buy any Bacon-flitches?

They're the fatteſt that ever were ſpent;

They're the ſides of the Old Committees,

Fed up with th' Long Parliament.

Here's a pair of Bellows and Tongs,

And for a ſmall matter I'll ſell 'em;

They're made of the Presbyters Lungs,

To blow up the Coals of Rebellion,

Says old Symon the King, &c.

3.

I had thought to have given them once

To ſome Black-Smith for his Forge;

[Page]But, now I have conſider'd on't,

They're Conſecrated to the Church;

For I'll give them to ſome Choir,

To make the Organs to rore,

And the little Pipes ſqueak higher

Than ever they did before,

Says old Symon the King, &c.

4.

Here's a couple of Stools for ſale,

The one ſquare, and t'other is round;

Betwixt them both, the Tail

Of the RƲMP fell unto the ground.

Will you buy the States Council-Table,

Which was made of the good Wain-Scot;

The frame was a tottering Babel,

To uphold the Independent-Plot?

Says old Symon the King, &c.

5.

Here's the Beeſom of Reformation,

Which ſhould have made clean the Floor;

But it ſwept the Wealth out of th' Nation,

And left us Dirt good ſtore.

Will you buy the States Spinning-wheel,

Which ſpun for the Ropers Trade?

But better it had ſtood ſtill,

For now it has ſpun a fair Threed,

Says old Symon the King, &c.

6.

Here's a very good Clyſter-pipe,

Which was made of a Butchers ſtump;

And oft-times it hath been us'd

To cure the Colds of the RƲMP.

Here's a lump of Pilgrims-Salve,

Which once was a Juſtice of Peace,

[Page]Who Nol and the Devil did ſerve;

But now it is come to This,

Says old Symon the King, &c.

7.

Here's a Roll of States Tobacco,

If any Good Fellow will take it:

It's neither Virginia nor Spaniſh,

But I'll tell you how they do make it;

'Tis Covenant mixt with Engagement,

With an Abjuration-Oath;

And many of them that did take it

Complain it is foul in the mouth,

Says old Symon the King, &c.

8.

Yet the Aſhes may happily ſerve

To Cure the Scab of the Nation,

When they have an Itch to ſerve

A Rebellion by Innovation.

A Lanthorn here is be bought,

The like was ſcarce e'r begotten;

For many a Plot 't has found out,

Before they ever were thought on,

Says old Symon the King, &c.

9.

Will you buy the Rump [...]s great Saddle

Which once did carry the Nation?

And heres the Bitt and the Bridle,

And Curb of Diſſimulation

Here's the Breeches of the Rump,

With a fair diſſembling Cloak,

And a Presbyterian Jump,

With an Independant Smock,

Says old Symon the King, &c.

[Page]

10.

Here's Oliver's Brewing-Veſſels.

And here's his Dray and his Slings,

Here's Hewſon's Aul and his Briſtles,

With divers other odd things.

And what doth the Price belong

To all theſe matters before-ye?

I'le ſell them all for an Old Song,

And ſo I do end my ſtory,

Says old Symon the King,

Says old Symon the King,

With his thread bare Cloaths, and his mainſey Noſe,

Sing hey ding, ding, a ding ding.

Advice to the City: or, the Whigs Loyalty.

To a Theorbo.

1.

REmember ye Whigs what was formerly done,

Remember your Miſchiefs in Forty and One,

When Friend oppos'd Friend, and Father the Son,

Then, then the Old Cauſe went rarely on;

The Cap ſat aloft, and low was the Crown,

The Rable got up, and the Nobles went down;

Lay Elders in Tubs,

Rul'd Biſhops in Robes,

Who mourn'd the ſad Fate

And dreadful Diſaſter,

Of their Royal Maſter,

By Rebels betray'd.

Then London be wiſe, and baffle their Power.

And let them play the old Game no more;

Hang, hang up the Sheri [...]

Th [...] Ba [...] [...] in Power,

Thoſe [...],

Thoſ [...] Rats of the [...]ower,

[Page] Whoſe Canting Tales the Rable believes,

In a hurry▪

And never ſorry▪

Merily they ſtill go on,

Fy for ſhame,

We're too tame, ſince they claim the combat;

Tan, ta, ra, ra, ra,

Tan, ta, ra, ra, ra;

Dub, a dub, and let the Drum beat,

The ſtrong Militia guard the Throne.

2.

When Faction poſſeſſes the popular Voice,

The Cauſe is ſupply'd ſtill with Non-ſenſe & noiſe;

And Toney their Speaker, the Rabble leads on,

He knows if we proſper, that he muſt run.

Carolina muſt be his next Station of eaſe,

And London be rid of her worſt Diſeaſe.

From Plots and from Spies,

From Treaſon and Lies,

We ſhall ever be free,

And the Law ſhall be able,

To puniſh a Rebel

As cunning as he.

Then London be wiſe, &c.

3.

Rebellion ne'er wanted a Loyal pretence;

Theſe Villains ſwear all's for the good of their Prince:

Oppoſe our Elections, to ſhew what they dare,

And loſing their Charter, Arreſt the Lord Mayor.

Fool Jenks was the firſt o'th' Cuckoldly Crew,

With Ellis, and Jeykel, and Hubland the Jew.

Fam'd Sparks of the Town,

For Wealth and Renown,

[Page]Give the Devil his due,

And ſuch as we fear,

Had their Sovereign been there,

Th'had Arreſted Him too.

Then London be wiſe, &c.

Blanket Fair, or the Hiſtory of Temple-ſtreet. Being a Relation of the merry Pranks plaid on the River of Thames during the great Froſt.

Tune, Packington's Pound

1.

COme liſten a while (though the Weather be cold)

In your Pockets & Plackets your Hands you may hold.

I [...]ll tell you a Story as t [...]ue as tis rare,

Of a River turn'd into a Bartholomew Fair.

Since old Chriſtmas luſt

There has been ſuch a Froſt,

That the Thames has by half the whole Nation been croſt.

O Scullers I pity your fate of Extreams,

Each Land-man is now become free of the Thames.

2.

'Tis ſome [...]a [...]land Acquaintance of Conjurer Oates,

That has ty'd up your Hands & impriſon'd your Boats

You know he was ever a friend to the Crew

Of all that to Admiral James has bin true.

Where Sculls once did Row

Men walk to and fro,

But e're four months are ended 'will hardly be ſo.

Should your hopes of a Tha [...] by this weather be croſt,

Your Fortunes would ſoon be as hard as the Froſt.

3.

In Roaſt Beef and Brand ▪ much money is ſpent

In Booths made of Blankets that pay no Ground-rent

[Page]With old faſhion'd Chimneys the Rooms are ſecur'd

And the Houſes from danger of Fire enſur'd.

The chief place you meet

Is call'd Temple-ſtreet,

If you do not believe me, then you may go ſee't.

From the Temple the Students do thither reſort,

Who were always great Patrons of Revels & ſport.

4.

The citizen comes with his Daughter or Wife,

And ſwears he ne'r ſaw ſuch a ſight in his life:

The Prentices ſtarv'd at home for want of O [...]als,

To catch them a heat do flock thither in ſhoals,

While the Country Squire

Does ſtand and admire

At the wondrous conjunction of Water and Fire.

Strait comes an arch Wag, a young Son of a Whore,

And lays the Squires head where his heels [...]ere before.

5.

The Rotterdam Dutchman with fleet cutting Scates,

To pleaſure the crowd ſhews his tricks & his feats,

Who like a Rope-dancer (for all his ſharp Steels)

His Brains and activity lie in his Heels.

Here are all things like fate

Are in ſlippery ſtate,

From the ſole of the Foot to the crown of the Pate.

While the Rabble in Sledges run giddily round,

And nought but a circle of folly is found.

6.

Here Damſels are handed like Nymphs in the Bath,

By Gentlemen-Ʋſhers with Legs like a Lath;

They ſlide to a Tune, and cry give me your Hand,

When the tottering Fops are ſcarce able to ſtand.

Then with fear and with care

They arrive at the Fair,

[Page]Where Wenches ſell Glaſſes & crackt Earthen ware;

To ſhew that the World, & the pleaſures it brings,

Are made up of brittle and ſlippery things.

7.

A Spark of the Bar with his Cane and his Muff,

One day went to treat his new rigg'd Kitchinſtuff,

Let ſlip from her Gallant, the gay Damſel try'd

(As oft ſhe had done in the Country) to ſlide,

In the way lay a ſtump,

That with a damn'd Thump,

She broke both her Shooe-ſtrings & cripl'd her Rump.

The heat of her Buttocks made ſuch a great thaw.

She had like to have drowned the man of the Law.

8.

All you that are warm both in Body and Purſe,

I give you this warning for better or worſe,

Be not there in the Moonſhine pray take my advice

For ſlippery things have been done on the Ice.

Maids there have been ſaid

To loſe Maiden-head,

And Sparks from full Pockets gone empty to Bed.

If their Brains and their Bodies had not been too warm,

'Tis forty to one they had come to leſs harm.

Freezland-Fair, or the Icey Bear-Garden.

Tune, Packington's Pound.

1.

I'Ll tell ye a Tale tho' before 'twas in Print)

If you make nothing on't, than the Devil is in't

'Tis no tale of a Tub, nor the Plotting of Treaſon,

But of very ſtrange things have been done this ſtrange Seaſon.

Ye know there's a Brook,

No, no, I miſtook,

[Page]For I could not find it, tho' long I did look;

Yet I do not queſtion, for all theſe odd freaks,

We ſhall find it again when-e're the Froſt breaks.

2.

If ye do believe what was told us by Oats,

Ye never again will have uſe of your Boats;

Without ye do now imploy th' Wheelers to do't,

Ye never ne'r will be able to bring all about.

He talkt of a Plot,

Believe it, or not,

To blow up the Thames, and to do't on the Spot;

Then either the Doctor muſt now be believ'd,

Or elſe the Doctor and we are deceiv'd

3.

No Water I ſee which does fairly incline,

To make me believe that he has Sprung his Mine;

Tho' that did not do what the Doctor intended,

Yet he may for one thing be ſaid to be commended:

He ſaid that the Pope,

Pray mind, 'tis a Trope,

Wou'd ſend us his Bulls, by the way of the Hope;

And tho' for the ſight we have all along bin waiting

I t'other day ſaw on the Ice a Bull-baiting.

4.

I hope you'll believe me, 'twas a fine Sight,

As ever I ſaw on a Queen Beſſes Night;

Tho' I muſt confeſs I ſaw no ſuch Dogs there,

As us'd to attend on th' Infallible Chair.

Yet there were ſome Men.

Whom I knew again,

Who bawl'd as they did, when they choſe Aldermen.

And Faith it had bin a moſt excellent Show.

Had there bin but ſome Crackers and Serpents to throw.

[Page]

5.

Another thing pleas'd me, as I hope for Life,

I ſaw of a Man that had gotten a Wife

To ſee the rare W [...]imſies, the Woman was ſick,

So never ſuſpected a ſlippery Trick:

But when ſhe came there,

The Ice wou'd not bear,

But whether 'twas his fault or hers, I can't ſwear;

Yet thus far is true, had he loſt his Wife,

He then might have pray'd for a Froſt all his life

6.

There's very fine Tricks, & new ſubject for Laughter,

For there you may take a Coach and go by Water,

So get a Tarpauling too, as you are Jogging,

Tho' a Nymph t'other day for it got a good Flogging.

There was an old Toaſt,

Of Beef had a Roaſt,

Which fell into th' Sellar, and fairly was loſt.

O ſee in old Proverbs ſometimes there is truth,

A man is not ſure of his Meat till in's Mouth.

7.

But I had forgot my chief bus [...]neſs I ſwear,

To give an Account of new Temple ſtreet Fair;

Where moſt of the Students do daily reſort,

To ſhew the great love they had always for ſport.

Who oft give a Token,

I hope't may be ſpoken,

To Whore in a Mask, who ſqueaks like a Pig a Poke in

To ſee ſuch crack't Veſſels ſail is a new matter,

Who have bin ſo ſhatter'd between Wind & Water.

8.

Like Babel this Fair's not built with Brick or ſtone

Though here I believe is as great Confuſion;

Now Blanckets are forc'd double Duty to pay,

[Page]On Beds all the night, and for Houſes all day;

But there's ſomething more,

Some people deplore,

Their careleſly leaving open Sellar door,

Which puts me in mind of Jack Presbyter's trick,

Who from Pulpit deſcends the like way to old Nick,

9.

Come all ye young Damſels both ſwarthy and fair,

This is the beſt place to put off your Crackt Ware;

Here's Chapmen good ſtore who too't ſtifly will ſtand,

And ſcorn to put Coin that is falſe in your Hand:

While you're there abiding,

And on the Ice Gliding,

Let 'em ſay what they will, 'tis but a back-ſliding:

But if ye ſhou'd Prove, then ſay I am a Prophet,

Tho' tis a ſlippery trick there ſhall come no more of it

10.

There's many more Tricks, but too long to be told,

Which are not all new, tho' there's none of 'em old

There's the Fellow that Printeth the Old Bailey Trial

Who to all the dull Printers does give a Denyal;

He'll Print for a S [...]ce,

(For that is his price

Your Name (that you brag may 'twas done) on the Ice.

And Faith I do think it a very fine thing,

So my Tale's at an end, but firſt, God ſave the King,

Toney's Soliloquies.

Tune, The Lamentation of a bad Market.

1.

WHen the Plot I firſt invented,

I was raviſht in conceit,

To ſee its Frame ſo well cemented,

Varniſh'd over with Deceit.

[Page]It was an Infant of my Spirit,

Nay, the Darling of my Soul,

If its contrivance be a Merit,

By Jove the Cooper did well Boul.

2.

For to give this Engine Motion,

To arrive where it did tend,

I fill'd the Vulgar ears with 'Notions,

And Goſpel of my Oaten Friend;

I antedated all Tranſactions,

Diſtinguiſht Stiles of New and Old,

In the State I made ſuch Fractions;

Some I Bought, and ſome I Sold.

3.

The Mobile I ſo diſtemper'd,

With the Magick of my Care,

None but wou'd his Soul have ventur'd

Where brave Toney bore a Share;

Have I not in Abomination

Held the Miter and Lawn Sleeves,

And Itcht at a ſecond Sequeſtration,

To pull down ſuch Ghoſtly Theeves.

4.

Have I not Taught the Sanhedrim ▪

To Imperate and not Obey?

Th' had Genuflections done to them,

Which men to Crowned Heads do pay.

Then would I Barter for Repeal

O'th Five and Thirtieth of Q. Beſs,

To make a way for Commonweal,

(The Centre of our Happineſs.)

5.

How many hot and high Debates,

In favour of th' Excluſive Bill,

[Page]I bandy'd 'twixt the two Eſtates,

Th' effects of my depraved will!

By Subornation, to the Block

I brought, a Loyal Noble Peer;

And truſted others to that Lock,

Which coſt my Buck and me ſo dear.

6.

In fine, poor profligated Wretch,

For to indulge my Minion Spight,

My Seared Conſcience I did ſtretch,

And did Old Rowley's Guards Indict

I did eſpouſe all Wickedneſs,

And only lov'd what's purely Evil;

In that alone was my exceſs;

Then take thy own Aſſociate, Devil.

Rejoyce in Tryumph, Or a Plaudite on the Ottamens defeat at Vienna.

Tune, Hark how the thundring Connons roar.

1.

I'M glad to hear the Cannons roar

Reſounding from the German ſhoar,

Better News than heretofore,

That Babels Beaſt is wounded;

The Chriſtians brave, both all and ſome

Charge with the Horſe and Kettle-Drum,

The Enemy of Chriſtendom,

Till [...]urks are quite confounded.

2.

The King of Poland (in a Phraiſe)

The great Grand-Seigneur did amaze,

And the noiſe his Siege did raiſe,

Couragious Solymannus!

(If you reſolve to come again)

[Page]You muſt recruit both might and main,

Or elſe it will be all in vain,

To think that thy'l trepan us.

3.

His Chriſtian Majeſty of France

Doth Booty play, the Germans dance,

And he doth laugh at our miſchance,

Himſelf he dare not venter;

But Pimp the Beaſt, and Babels Whore,

And he [...]o-peep ſtands at the door,

While the wanton Cannon roar,

Then Hector-like he'l enter.

4.

But ſpite on Turk, and Great Mogul,

And Pox upon the Scarlet Trull,

And we Poppie too dare pull,

If Charles be our Commander;

For though He Neutral ſeem to be,

He can command both Land and Sea,

And over-throw the big-look'd Three,

And trace brave Alexander.

5.

Then let no rancor joyn'd with hate

Make Ruptures in the Church or State,

But all ſubmit to Divine Fate,

And keep within our Border;

Let none old England then forſake,

(Since Crowns and Kingdoms lye at Stake)

If Forreign War to undertake,

Till Charles get further Order.

6.

The Germans tall that heretofore,

They Captive took one Bull and Boar,

The Minotaurus of a Whore,

[Page]Did roar like any Thunder;

Then P. P. how could this be

The Great Gibralter of the Sea?

Whoſe Army was to Fight with thee

And force the World to wonder.

7.

But Ottomon pray get you gone,

We Chriſtians do but draw you on;

We'l greater Booty have, or none,

And if you'l not prevent it;

If ever you turn your Face this way

We'l make the Cannon muſick play,

And you ſhall Dance the Engliſh Hay,

Till all your bones lament it.

8.

Our Royal James will make you know

The ſharpneſs of a York-ſhire Ho,

And prove by Land, and Sea your Foe

If Charles command to do it;

Both England, Scotland, Dutch and Dane,

And all his Iſlands of the M [...]h

Will not be able to refrain;

If he once ſay do it.

9

Then fill the Piſs-pot to the Swine,

Heap me a rouſing Glaſs of Wine,

The dancing Thames ſhall pledge the Rhine

And Tyber ſhall be Praeſes;

Then heres to Charles that rules the Main,

To Poland, Holland, Scot and Dane,

To Germany, and brave Lorrain;

But pray you po [...]us ne ſis.

Cupid turn'd Muſqueteer.

[Page]

Tune, Which no body can deny.

ALas what's is like to become of the Plot

Now To [...]ey [...]s dead, and Titus is go [...]

In ſo fair a proſpect of going to Pot?

Which no body can deny.

They ſay he has lately reviv'd an old trick,

Which he us'd as a Med'cine when he was Love ſick,

Page, Bayliff or Bum to take in the Nick,

Which no body can deny.

Now Titus for one of his Saints Tutelars,

Had got a young Fellow as Brawny as Mars,

With a thouſand invincible Charms in his A—

Which no body can deny.

A large pair of Buttocks as ever was ſeen,

With a delicate Nut-brown hole between,

And raſcally Cupid lay lurking Within.

Which no body can deny.

Whence Centinel-like with his Gun in his hand,

He ſpy'd out the Doctor & charg'd him to ſtand,

Not doubting but He would obey his command

Which no body can deny.

But he diſobey'd; which when Cupid eſpy'd,

He quickly preſented: Have-at-you he cry'd,

And lodg'd him a Bullet in his left ſide,

Which no body can deny, &c.

'Tis true he was arm'd (as Poets have told)

With only a Bowe and a Quiver of old,

And Arrows for Love, which were headed with Gold,

Which no &c.

Which ſtill he does uſe, as h'has formerly done,

When th'old way of Loving he means to drive on

But for this new way he makes uſe of a Gun,

Which no, &c.

[Page]The Gun went off bounce, yet the Dr. n'er ſtarted

Which was ſome effect of his being ſtout-hearted,

For he only thought that the Fellow had farted,

Which no body can deny.

But quickly he found he had cauſe to repent it,

For Cupid had poiſon'd the ſhot [...]e [...]r he ſent it,

With ſomthing ſo ſtrong, you might eaſily ſcent it.

Which no body can deny.

This poiſon ſo baſely debaſes Loves Fires,

That the fouleſt of object▪ [...]he Lover admires,

And ſo it inclin'd the good Doctor's Deſires,

Which no body can deny.

For he fell in love ('tis a kind of a Riddle)

Immediately with this great Fellows Bumfiddle;

But chiefly he ſ [...]irkt at the Slit in the middle,

Which no body can deny.

Quoth he in a rage, What a plague have you done?

Your Barrel is foul, I'll lay Twenty to One;

But I have a Rammer will ſcour your Gun,

Which no body can deny.

Nay, never refuſe, but leave off your winking;

There's no body near, & 'tis juſt to my thinking,

That I ſhou'd chaſtize you thus for your ſtinking

Which no body can deny.

So down went the Breeches, and he fell to work;

About him he laid, as he had been a Turk:

And ſo this great bus'neſs was done with a Jerk,

Which no body can deny.

And truly the bus'neſs was great in its kind;

For the Fellow was very well ſcour'd behind,

And the Dr. was eas'd both in Body and Mind,

Which no body can deny.

No Proteſtent-Plot; or, the Whigs Loyalty With the Doctor's New Diſcovery,

[Page]

1.

HElls reſtleſs Factious Agents ſtill Plot on,

And Eighty Three ſmells rank of Forty One;

The Royal Martyrs Foes purſue his Son,

Who ſeek their Lives with Blunderbuſs and Guns;

The Infernal Regicides ſo inflam'd with Zeal,

Are for killing King & Duke, t'Erect a Commonweal

This is the daily Trade & practice of our Modern Whiggs,

Tho' they're always baffled in their damn'd Intrigues.

2.

What! Ho! cryes Titus, riſe ye ſleepy Heads,

Unleſs you'l all be Murder'd in your Beds;

Fierce Hannibal of France is at your Gate,

Come Raſcals, Mutiny e'er 'tis too late:

The Spaniſh Pilgrims once hir'd to cut your Throats

Are Landed now at Milford Haven, believe your Saviour Oats;

And the Horrid Popiſh Army, that were hid under Ground,

Are, I'll take my Oath, within a Trumpets Sound.

3.

See there, a Fighting Army in the Air!

But now it vaniſhes, and diſappears;

A Spectre told ſtrange Things to Honeſt Beſs,

Which much amaz'd the Hatfield Propheteſs;

I told 'em true at firſt, what Black Deſigns would be

Carry [...]d on againſt the King, and Royal Alban [...],

By the diſcontended Whiggs; but Rebel Tony ſince,

Made me contradict my former evidence.

4.

I've loſt my Swearing Trade, now by this Hand,

[Page]Muſt I be forc'd to ſtarve, or leave the Land [...]

My injur'd Prince has long ſince on me frown'd,

For Perjuries againſt his Life and Crown:

I'll follow Rumbold, Wade, Nelthrop, Walcot, Hone,

With that Cruel Blood-Hound Barton, who've all fled the Town;

For if I carry here any longer, I harbour dreadful Fears,

That I ſhall be Hang'd, or forfeit both my Ears.

5.

Unparallel'd Aſſaſſines, that could dare

To attempt the Life of Jove's Vice-Gerent here:

Of whom the Gods do take ſuch ſpecial care,

None ought to mutter Treaſon to the Air;

But cut-Throat Proteſtants may do any thing,

And Inform the Roman Catholicks how to Murder Kings;

They take it in great Dudgeon to be equaliz'd

Yet their Helliſh Crimes muſt paſs for Loyalty.

6.

But thanks to Heaven, who did curb their Power,

And has preſerved us from that Fatal Hour:

When Villains were to Maſſacre us all,

And Noll's Succeſſors to poſſeſs White-hall;

Rumſey has taken up White hall for his Bower,

And the Lord Ruſſel is gone to fortifie the Tower:

Whilſt we that ſtand for Church and State, with great ſecurity can Sing.

And Pray Jove to preſerve the Life of Charles our King.

The Loyal Conqueſt, or Deſtruction of Treaſon.

Tune, Lay by your Pleading, the Law ly's a Bleeding.

1.

NOw Loyal Tories

May Tryumph in Glories,

[Page]The Fatal Plot is now betray'd,

The reſt were Shams and Stories.

Now againſt Treaſon,

We have Law and Reaſon;

And e'ry Bloody Whig muſt go,

To Pot in Time and Seaſon.

No Shamming, nor Flamming,

No Ramming, nor Damming,

No Ignoramus Jury's now,

For Whigs, but only Hanging,

2.

Look a little farther,

Place things in order,

Thoſe that ſeek to Kill their King,

Godfrey might Murther,

Now they'r Detected,

By Heaven Neglected;

In black diſpair cut their Throats,

Thus Pluto's Work's effected.

No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.

3.

Catch grows in Paſſion,

And fears this New Faſhion;

Leſt ev'ry Traytor hang himſelf,

And ſpoyl his beſt Profeſſion.

Tho' four in a Morning

Tyburn Adorning;

He Cryes out for a Score a time,

To get his Men their Learning.

No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.

4.

Now we have founded

The bottom which confounded,

Our Plotting Parliament of late

[Page]Who had our King ſurrounded.

Hamden and others,

And Trenchard were Brothers;

Who were to kill the King and Duke

And hang us for their Murthers.

No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.

5.

Surpriſing the Tower

And Court in an Hour,

And enter in at the Traytors Gate,

But was not in their Power.

Our Guards now are Doubled,

E're long they will be Trebled,

The Harmony of Gun and Drum,

Makes Guilty Conſcience Troubled.

No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.

6.

If Grey is Retaken,

The Root o'th' Plot is ſhaken,

Ruſſel lately loſt his Head,

The Bleeding Cauſe to Waken.

M—h in Town ſtill,

With Armſtrong his Council▪

The Lady G—y may find him out,

Under ſome Smock or Gown ſtill.

No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.

7.

Give 'em no Quarter,

They Aim at Crown, and Garter,

They're of that Bloody Regiment,

That made their King a Martyr.

Leave none to breed on,

They'd make us to bleed on;

They are the bloody'ſt Caniballs

[Page]That ever men did Read on.

No Shamming, nor Flamming,

No Ramming nor Damming,

No Ignoramus Jury's now,

For Whiggs, b [...]t onl [...] Hanging.

State and Ambition, A New SONG at the Dukes Theatre.

STate and Ambition alas will deceive ye,

there's no ſolid joy but the Bleſſing of Love,

Scorn does of pleaſure fair Silvia bereave ye,

your fame is not perfect till that you remove:

Monarch's that ſway the vaſt Globe in their glory

now Love is their brighteſt jewel of Power,

Poor Strephon's heart was ordain'd to adore ye,

ah! then diſdain his Paſſion no more.

2.

Jove in his Throne was the Victim of Beauty,

his thunder laid by he from Heaven came down

Shap'd like a Swan, to fair Leda paid duty,

and priz'd her far more, than his Heavenly Crown

She too was pleas'd with her Beautiful Lover,

ſhe ſtrok'd his fair Plumes and feaſted her Eye,

And he too in loving knew well how to move her,

by Billing begins the buſineſs of Joy.

3.

Since Divine Powers examples have given,

If we do not follow their precepts we ſin,

Sure 'twill appear an affront to their Heaven,

If when the Gates open we enter not in;

Beauty my deareſt was from the beginning,

ordained to cool Mans amorous rage,

And ſhe that againſt that decree will be ſinning

in Spring, ſhe will find the Winter of Age.

[Page]

4.

Think on the pleaſure while Love's in its glory,

let not your ſcorn Loves great Altar diſgrace,

The time may come when no Swain will adore ye

or ſmooth the leaſt wrinkle age lays on your face;

Then haſt to enjoyment whilſt love is freſh blooming,

and in thy height and vigour of day.

Each minute we loſe, our pleaſure's conſuming,

and ſeven years to come, will not one paſt repay.

5.

Think my dear Silvia, the Heavenly bleſſing,

of loving in Youth, is the Crown of our days,

Short are the hours where Love is poſſeſſing;

but tedious the minuits when croſt with delays

Love's the ſoft Anvil where Nature's agreeing,

all mankind are form'd, and by it they move,

'Tis thence my dear Silvia and I have our being,

the Caeſar and Swain ſpring from Almighty Love.

6.

I ſee my dear Silvia at laſt has conſented,

that bluſh in your Cheek does plainly appear,

And nought but delay ſhall be ever repented,

ſo faithful I'll prove, and ſo true to my Dear

Then Hymen prepare, and light all thy Torches,

perfume thy head Altar, and ſtrew all the way,

By little degrees Love makes his approaches,

but Revels at night for the loſs of the day.

Pluto, the Prince of Darkneſs, his Entertainment of Collonel Algernoon Sidney, upon his Arrival at the Infernal Palace

Tune, Hail to Mirtle Shade,

Pluto.

Room for great Algernoon,

You Furies that ſtand in his [...]ay;

[Page]Let an Officer to me come,

who ſerv'd me every day,

Promoting Sedition and Evil,

To alter the Church and State,

He deſerves an Imployment in Hell,

He has done great ſervice of late.

Pluto.

He's one of the Damn'd old Crew,

Who Voted the Death of the King;

At Oxford again he did ſue

To be at the ſelf-ſame thing.

All Miſchiefs on Earth he devis'd,

All hazards he alſo did run,

To render my Name ſolemniz'd

With the Rabble of London Town.

Pluto.

To Monarchy he was a Foe,

Religion he always diſdain'd,

'Gainſt Government and Laws too,

Damn'd Anarchy he maintain'd:

I'll give Thee Preferment here,

Since England has baniſht thee thence,

Brave Sidney thou need'ſt not fear,

Thou ſhalt have great recompence.

Shaftsbury.

Now Monarchy has prevail'd,

Our Fanatick Plots to defeat,

On whom is the Cauſe entail'd?

Who'l ſtand it in ſpight of Fate?

We that maintain'd it ſo long

From Juſtice were forced to flye;

If you then had come along,

You needed not there to die.

[Page]Eſſex.

The Factious are quite undone,

For loſs of the Fanatick Peers:

Now Shaftsbury and I are gone,

Poor Oates has loſt his Ears?

For M—h our Shams and Intrigues

To th'World has plainly declar'd,

And H—d our ſolemn Leagues,

In the Plot a long time prepar'd.

Ruſſel.

I'm glad you are ſafe arriv'd,

Tho' I doubt you met Jack by the way

Now M—h is reconcil'd,

What a plague is become of Gray?

Rebellion could ne'r diſallow

Conſpiring againſt the Prince,

Though I by a Sham-dying Vow

Did plead great Innocence.

The Kings Health, ſet to Farrinel's Grounds. In ſix PARTS,

Firſt Strain.

JOy to Great Caeſar,

Long Life, Love and Pleaſure;

'Tis a Health that Divine is,

Fill the Bowl high as mine is;

Let none fear a Feaver,

But take it off thus Boys;

Let the King leave for ever,

'Tis no matter for us Boys.

Second Strain.

TRy all the Loyal,

Defy all,

Give denial;

[Page]Sure none thinks his Glaſs too big here,

Nor any Prig here,

Or Sneaking Whig here,

Of Cripple Tony's Crew,

That now looks blew,

His Heart Akes too,

The Tap wo'nt do,

His Zeal ſo true,

And Projects new,

Ill Fate does now purſue.

Third Strain.

LEt Tories Guard the King,

Let Whigs in Halters ſwing;

Let Pilk and Shute be ſham'd,

Let Bugg'ring Oates be damn [...]d;

Let Cheating Player be nick'd,

The Turn-coat Scribe be kick'd;

Let Rebel City Don's

Never beget their Sons;

Let ev'ry Whiggiſh Peer

That Rapes a Lady fair,

And leaves his only Dear

The Sheets to gnaw and tear,

Be puniſh'd out of Hand,

And forc'd to pawn his Land

T'attone the grand Affair.

Fourth Strain

GReat Charles, like Jehovah, ſpares thoſe would un-King him,

And warms with His Graces the Vipers that ſting Him;

'Till Crown'd with juſt Anger the Rebels he ſeizes:

Thus Heaven can Thunder when ever it pleaſes.

[Page]

Jigg.

THen to the Duke fill, fill up the Glaſs,

The Son of our Martyr, belov'd of the King ▪

Envy'd and Lov'd,

Yet Bleſs'd from above,

Secur'd by an Angel ſafe under his Wing.

Sixth Strain.

FAction and Folly,

And State Melancholly,

With [...]ony in Whigland for ever ſhall dwell;

Let Wit, Wine, and Beauty,

Then teach us our Duty,

For none e're can Love, or be Wiſe and Rebel.

A New SONG on the Inſtalment of Sir John Moor Lord Mayor of London.

Tune, St. George for England.

YOu London Lads rejoyce,

And caſt away your Care,

Since with one Heart and Voice

Sir John is choſen Mayor;

The Famous Sir John Moore,

Lord Mayor of London Town,

To your eternal Praiſe,

Shall ſtand a Subject of Renown,

Amongſt your Famous Worthies

Who have been moſt eſteem'd;

For Sir John, Sir John,

Your Honour hath redeem'd.

Sir John He's for the Kings Right,

Which Rebels would deſtroy.

Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.

[Page]

When with a Hide-bound Mayor

The Town was in Diſtraction,

Sir John leapt in the Chair,

And cur'd the Hall of Faction:

He to the People ſhew'd

Their Duty and Allegiance;

How to the Sacred King and Laws

They pay their due Obedience.

Sir George unto the People

A Loyal Speech did give;

But Sir John, Sir John,

Your Honour did retrieve.

Sir John is for Allegiance,

Which Rebels wou [...]d deſtroy.

Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.

When thou waſt loſt, O London,

In Faction and Sedition;

By Whigs and Zealots undone,

While they were in Commiſſion;

When Treaſon, like old Nol's Brigade,

Did gallop through the Town,

And Loyalty, (a tir'd Jade,)

[...]ad caſt her Rider down;

The Famous Sir George Jeffereys

Your Charter did maintain;

But Sir John, Sir John,

Reſtor'd your Fame again.

Sir John is for the Monarchy,

Which Rebels wou'd deſtroy.

Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.

When th' Mayor, with Sheriffs mounted,

Sad Jalouſies contriv'd,

And all the Town run after,

[Page]As if the Devil driv'd,

Then Famous Sir John Moore

Thy Loyalty reſtor'd,

And Noble Sir George Jefferys,

Who did thy Acts record:

Sir George of all the Heroes

Deſerves the formoſt place;

But Sir John, Sir John,

Hath got the Sword and Mace.

Sir John he is for Juſtice,

Which Rebels wou'd deſtroy.

Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.

Sir Patience would have the Court

Submit unto the City;

Whitehall ſtoop to the Change,

And is not that a pity?

Sh. Bethel (ſave Allegiance)

Thinks nothing a Tranſgreſſion:

Sir Tom rails at the Lawful Prince,

Sir Bob at the [...]ucceſſion:

While ſtill the brave Sir George

Does their Fury interpoſe:

But Sir John, Sir John

Maintains the Royal Cauſe.

Sir John is for his Highneſs,

Whom Rebels wou'd deſtroy.

Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.

Sir Patience for a Parliament,

Sh Bethel a Petition

Inſtead of an Addreſs,

cram'd brimful of Sedition.

Sir Tom he he is for Liberty,

Againſt Prerogative:

[Page]Sir Bob is for the Subjects Right,

But will no Juſtice give:

And brave Sir George does

All their Famous Deeds Record;

But Sir John, Sir John

Your Loyalty reſtor'd.

Sir John He's for the Int'reſt,

Which Rebels would deſtroy,

Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.

Sir Patience he calls for Juſtice,

And then the Wretch will ſham us.

Sh [...] Bethel he packs a Jury

Well vers'd in Ignoramus:

Sir Tom wou'd hang the Tory,

And let the Whig go free:

Sir Bob wou'd have a [...] Commonwealth,

And cry down Monarchy.

While ſtill the brave Sir George

Does all their Deeds Record;

But Sir John, Sir John

Your Loyalty reſtor'd.

Sir John He is for Juſtice,

Which Rebels wou'd deſtroy.

Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.

And may ſuch Loyal Mayors

As honeſt Sheriffs find;

Such Sheriffs find a Jury

Will to the King be kind;

And may the King live long,

To rule ſuch People here;

And may he ſuch a Lord Mayor find,

And Sheriffs every year;

[Page]That Traytors may receive

The Juſtice of the Laws,

While Sir John, Sir John

Maintains the Royal Cauſe.

Sir John is for the King ſtill,

Whom Rebels would deſtroy.

Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.

The Whig-Intelligencer: or, Sir Samuel in the Pound, for publiſhing Scandalous and Seditious Letters, for which he was Flu'd 10000 l.

Tune, Hark! the thundring Cannons roar.

1.

HArk! the fatal day is come,

Fatal as the day of Doom,

For Sir Samuel there make room,

So fam'd for Ignoramus:

He whoſe Conſcience cou'd allow

Such large favours you know how,

If we do him Juſtice now,

The Brethren will not blame us.

2.

Stand to the Bar, and now advance,

Morden, Kendrick, Otes and Prance;

But let the Foreman lead the Dance,

The reſt in courſe will follow;

Tilden, Kendrick, next ſhall come,

And with him receive their Doom,

Ten thouſand Pound, at which round Sum

The Hall ſet up a Halloo.

Brave Sir Barnard—on now,

Who no Main would e'r allow

To loſe ten thouſand at a throw,

Was pleas'd to all mens thinking:

[Page] Ten thouſand pounds! a diſmal note,

Who before had giv [...]n his Vote,

Not to give King a Groat,

To ſave the Throne from ſinking

4.

But yet there's a Remedy,

Before the King ſhall get by me,

I'll quit my darling Liberty;

Nor will I give Bail for't:

For e're the Crown ſhall get a Groat

In oppoſition to my Vote,

I [...]ll give 'em leave to cut my Throat

Altho' I lye in Goal for't.

5.

Were't for Mon—h, I'de not grieve,

O [...] Brave Ruſſel to retrieve,

Or that Sidney yet might live,

Twice told, I'd not complain, Sir:

Nay, what's more, my whole Eſtate,

With my Bodkins, Spoons, and Plate,

So I might reduce the State

To a Commonwealth again, Sir.

6.

Or that Mon. were in Grace,

Or Sir Sam. in Jeffery's place,

To ſpit his Juſtice in the Face,

For acting Law and Reaſon,

Or that the Torys went to pot,

Or we could prove it a Sham Plot,

Or Eſſex did not cut his Throat;

Or Plotting were not Treaſon.

7.

Thus I'd freely quit my Coyn;

But with Torys to combine,

[Page]Or keep the Heir in the right Line,

That Popery be in faſhion,

To ſee the Holy Cauſe run down,

While Mighty York is next the Crown

And Perkin's forc'd to flye the Town:

Oh vile Abomination!

8.

Sooner than [...]bedience owe

To their Arbitrary Law,

Or my Bail in danger draw,

For Breach of good Behaviour;

I with Bethel, and the reſt

O'th' Birds, in Cage will make my Neſt,

And keep my Fine to Plot and Feaſt,

Till Mon— be in Favour.

Oates Thraſh'd in the Compter, and Sack'd-up in Newgate.

Tune, Hail to the Myrtle Shades; &c.

1.

HAil to the Prince of the Plot,

All hail to the Knight of the Poſt;

Poor Titus! 'tis now thy Lot

To pay for all the Roſt:

From Wine and ſix Diſhes a day

Is ſure a deplorable Fate,

To fall to the Basket, and pray

For an Alms through an Iron-grate.

2.

Titus who once was a Prince,

Now Titus a Captive in Gaol;

Titus who lov'd a Wench,

Or any thing wore a Tail;

Titus who made a full paſs

At a following Bum in the Room,

[Page]Is clapt up himſelf by th' Ar—,

And cannot reverſe his Doom.

3.

Did Titus ſwear true for the King,

And is the good Doctor forſworn?

Did Titus our Freedom bring,

And Otes in Newgate mourn?

Was Titus the Light of the Town,

The Saviour and Guardian proclaim'd,

And now the poor Doctor thrown

To a Dungeon, in Darkneſs damn'd?

4.

But now, to declare the cauſe,

I'll tell you as brief as I can,

The Doctor can't in the cloſe

Prove Titus an honeſt Man:

Can Titus be juſt to the King,

From Treaſon and Treachery free,

When the Doctor hangs in a String,

For Plotting and Perjury?

5.

For Damage the Doctor has done,

Poor Titus is got in the Pound,

'Till the Doctor produce the Sum,

Full Thirty thouſand pound:

If you knew on what damnable ſcore

Such perilous words he brought forth,

You'd ſay his falſe Tongue coſt more

Than ever his Head was worth.

6.

The Doctor an Evidence

Againſt our Great Duke did come in;

Nay, ſuch was his Inſolence,

To impeach our Gracious Queen:

[Page]For Which ſuch Indictments are brought,

Such Actions of Scandal crowd in,

That Titus could wiſh, tis thought,

He were out of the Doctor's Skin.

7.

Nay, further, while Titus ſwore

For the Safety and Life of the King,

The Doctor began to roar,

And belch'd out his poyſon'd Sting:

The Doctor for Titus may ſtretch,

H'has ſo brought his bus'neſs about,

Without the kind help of Ketch

It's fear'd he will ſcarce get out:

8.

Through ſixteen cloſe Key-holes, 'tis plain,

Inviſible Titus did paſs,

And the Doctor got back again,

To catch a great Don at Maſs:

But now they are both in the Trap,

'Tis a Wager but Jack in the Fields,

(Tho' Titus may chance to 'ſcape,)

Has the Doctor faſt by the heels.

A new way to Play an old Game.

Tune, Would you be a man of faſhion,

1.

HAve you heard of Forty-One Sir,

When the Cauſe did thrive amain;

Tony's Tap did freely run Sir,

Tap did freely run Sir,

And confronted Charles his Wain?

When the Commons thought it Reaſon,

And a meritorious thing,

To uſe Villany and Treaſon,

And made Charles a Glorious King.

[Page]Have you heard of Eighty-Three Sir,

When a deeper Plot was lay'n,

When the Raſcals did agree Sir,

Raſcals did agree Sir?

To play o're the ſame again?

When to act their Reformation,

Nought their Fury would ſuffice;

But they needs muſt Purge the Nation,

By a Royal Sacrifice.

3.

Have you ſeen thoſe Motly-Martys,

That did ſuffer for the Cauſe,

Swinging in their Tyburn Garters,

In their Tyburn-Garters,

To Attone their Sacred Laws?

If the Blunderbuſs ▪ ſhou'd miſs Sir,

And ſhou'd fail to kill the King,

There are other means ſhould hit Sir,

And perform the Glorious Thing.

4.

To his Name a Statue's due Sir.

Higher than the Monument,

Who this mighty Deed ſhall do Sir,

Mighty Deed ſhall do Sir,

So Great, ſo Good, ſo Excellent:

Future Ages ſhall him Crown Sir,

And ſhall bleſs the happy hour,

And Religion ſhall fall down Sir,

And adore her Saviour.

5.

Thus the Boaſting Bigots Canted,

(Big with hopes of Common-weal)

Thus the Prieſtly Villain Ranted,

Prieſtly Villain Ranted,

In a Drunken ſit of Zeal:

[Page]But their Plots were all in vain Sir,

And their Haughty raſh Career,

Signs and Wonders make it plain Sir,

Kings are Heavens peculiar Care.

The Loyal Iriſh-mam.

Tune, Iriſh Trot, or Fingaul Jigg.

1.

MY bony dear Shony,

My Crony, my Honey

Why doſt thou grumble

And keep in thy words ſo;

Sighing, and Crying,

And Groaning, and Frowning,

Ah why doſt thou ſtill

Lay thy hand on thy Sword ſo?

What if the Traytors

Will talk of State-matters,

And rail at the King,

Without Cauſe or Reaſon:

We'll Love on, and let Buſineſs alone,

For Billing and Kiſſing

Will ne'r be found Treaſon,

2.

Plotting, and Sotting,

And Railing, and Fooling;

Gods Nowns, with the Rable

Is now all the Faſhion:

Swearing and Tearing,

Caballing and Brawling;

By Chrieſt and St. Patrick

Will ruine the Nation:

He's but a Widgeon

That talks of Religion

[Page]Since Rebels are now

The Reformers and Teachers,

Sodom's Diſciple Debauches the People,

Good Heaven defend us

From more of ſuch Preachers.

3.

Viſions, Seditions,

And Railing Petitions,

The Rable receive,

And are wondrous merry:

All can remember

The Fifth of November,

But no man the Thirtieth of January:

Talking of Treaſon

Without any Reaſon,

Will loſe the poor City

Its Bountiful Charter:

The Commons haranging.

Will bring them to Hanging,

Though each Puppy hopes

To be Knight of the Garter.

4.

C—on and P—on

Papillion that Villain,

With Corniſh and Ward

Are the Monarchy Hunters;

Raſcals too low are,

To lodge in the Tower,

And ſcarcely are fitting

To fill up the Compter;

Bethel is [...]led too,

And Toney is dead too,

Our Fate to befriend us,

Made bold to ſtrike ſirs:

[Page]Routed the Bigot,

And pull'd out the Spigot,

His Fame and his Body

Now ſtink alike Sir.

A Litany from Geneva, In anſwer to that from St Omers.

FRom the Tap in the Guts of the Honorable Stump,

From which runs Rebellion, that ſtinks like the Rump,

On purpoſe to leven the Factious Lump,

Libera nos Domine.

From him that aſpires as high as the Crown,

And vows to pull Copes and Cathedrals down,

Fit only to govern the World in the Moon.

Libera nos.

From the Prick-ear'd Levite, that can without pain

Swear Black into White, then Ʋnſwear it again;

Whoſe Name did deſign him a Villain in Grain,

Libera nos.

From his Black-Bills, and Pilgrims with Sticks in their hands

That came to make a Religious Band,

Then Raviſh our Wives, and Inhabit our Land,

Libera nos.

From the Mouth of the City that never gives o [...]r

To complain of Oppreſſions unheard-of before,

And yet for his Letchery will not quit ſcore,

Libera nos.

From the Cent per Cent Scriv'ner, & all his State-tricks

That cryer out of Intemp'rance, who yet will not ſtick

To clear a young Spend-thrift's Eſtate at a lick,

Libera nos.

From the Force and the Fire of the Inſolent Rable,

That wou'd hurl the Government into a Babel,

And from the nice Fare of the Mouſe-ſtarver's Table

Libera nos.

[Page]From the Elder in New ſtreet, that Goggles & Cants

Then turns up his Whites, to noſe it, and pants,

And at the ſame time plays the Devil and Saint,

Libera nos.

From Jenkin's Homilies drawn through the Noſe,

From Langley, Dick, Baldwin, and all ſuch as thoſe,

And from Brawney Settle's Poem in Proſe,

Libera nos.

From a Surfeit occaſion'd by Proteſtant Feaſts,

From Sedition for Sawce, and Republicks for Gueſts,

With Treaſon for Grace-Cup, or Faction at leaſt,

Libera nos.

From the Conſcience of Ci [...]s reſembling their Dames,

That in private are Nice, but in publick ſo Tame,

That they will not ſtick out for a Touch of the ſame,

Libera nos.

From the blind Zeal of all Democratical Tools,

From Whigland, and all its Anarchical Rules,

Deviſed by Knaves, and Impoſed on Fools,

Libera nos.

From the Late Times Reviv'd, when Religion was gain,

And Church-Plate was ſeiz'd for Reliques Prophane,

Since practic'd by Searching Sir William again,

Libera nos.

From ſuch Reformation where Zealots begun,

To preach Heaven muſt by firm Bulwarks be won

And Te Deum ſung from the mouth of a Gun,

Libera nos.

From Parliamentarians, that out of their Love

And Care for His Majeſty's Safety, wou'd prove

The ſecureſt way were His Guards to remove,

Libera nos.

[Page]From Sa [...]cy Petitions, that ſerve to inflame us,

From all who for the Aſſociation are famous,

From the Devil, the Doctor, & the damn'd Ignoramus

Libera nos.

The Norwich Loyal Litany.

DEfend us from all Popiſh Plots,

That ſo the People fray;

And eke alſo from Treacherous Scots,

As bad or worſe than they.

From Parliaments long Rumps and Tails,

From Houſe of Commons Furies,

Defend us eke from Proteſtant Flayls,

And Ignoramus Juries.

Protect us now, and evermore,

From a white Sheet and Proctor:

And from that Noble Peer brought o're

The Salamanca Doctor.

A Doctor with a Witneſs ſure,

Both in his Riſe and Fall:

His Exit almoſt as obſcure

As his Original.

Deſigns and Dangers far Remove,

From this Diſtreſſed Nation,

And Damn' the Trayterous Model of

Bold Tony's Aſſociation

And may the Prick-Ear'd Party that

Have Coin enough in Cupboard,

Forbear to Shiver an Eſtate,

And Splinters mount for Hobart.

From ſixteen ſelf-conceited Peers,

Protect our Soveraign ſtill;

[Page]And from the Dam'd Petitioners,

For the Excluſive Bill.

Guard (Heaven) great Charles, and his Eſtate

'Gainſt Tony upon Tony;

And from the Houſe of Commons, that

Will give the King no Money.

From thoſe that did deſign and laugh,

At Tangier in Diſtreſs;

And were Mahometans worſe by half,

Then all the Moors of Fez

From ſuch as with Uſurping hand,

Drive Princes to Extreams;

Confound all their Devices, and

Deliver Charles, and James.

But may the beauteous Youth come home,

And do the thing that's fit,

Or I muſt tell that Abſalom,

He has more Hair then Wit.

May he be wiſe, and ſoon expel

Th' old Fox, th' old Fawning Elf;

The time draws nigh Achitophel,

Shan't need to hang himſelf.

This Jury I've Empanel'd here,

Of honeſt lines and true,

Whom you [...]l I doubt at Weſtminſter,

Will find Ignoramus too.

A new Litany to be Sung in all Conventicles for Inſtruction of the Whigs

Tune, call [...]d Cavalilly Man.

1.

FRom Counſels of Six▪ where Treaſon prevails,

From raiſing Rebellion in England and Wales,

[Page]From Rumbolds ſhort Cannons, and Proteſtant-Flayls ▪

For ever O Fate deliver me.

2.

From Shaftsbury's Tenets, and Sydneys Old Hint.

From ſeizing the King by the Rabbles Conſent,

From owning the Fact, and denying the Guilt,

For ever, &c.

3.

From Aiming at Crowns and indulging the ſin,

From playing Old-Noll's Game over again;

From a Son and a Rebel, ſtuft up in one skin,

For ever, &c.

4.

From Swearing of Lyes like a Knight of the Poſt,

From Pilgrims of Spain, that ſhould Land on our Coaſt,

From a Plot like a Turd, ſwept about till its Loſt,

For ever, &c.

5.

From Oats's clear Evidence when he was Vext,

From hearing him ſqueak out Hugh Peters old Text ▪

From Marrying one Siſter, and Raping the next,

For ever, &c.

6.

From tedious Confinement by Parliament Votes,

From B—ts Whig Sermons with Marginal Notes;

From ſaving our Heads, by Cutting our Throats,

For ever, &c.

7.

From Presbyter Bandogs, that Bite and not Bark,

From loſing ones Brains by a blow in the Dark ▪

From our Friends in More-fields and thoſe at More-park,

For ever, &c.

8

From Citizens Conſciences and their Wives foul Itch,

Prom Marrying a Widdow that looks like a Witch,

From following the Court with deſign to be Rich,

For ever, &c.

9.

From Trimmers arraigning a Judge on the Bench,

From ſlighting the Guards, that we know will not Flinch,

[Page]And from the Train'd-Bands Royal-Aid at a Pinch,

For ever, &c.

10.

From all that to Caeſar ſham duty Expreſs,

That cringe at his Coach, and ſmile in his [...]ace,

And two years ago thought it ſcorn to Addreſs,

For ever, &c.

11.

From having the Gout, and a very Fair Daughter,

From being oblig'd to our Friend croſs the Water

From Strangling & Fleying, & what follows after,

For ever, &c.

12.

From Wit that lies hidden in gay Pantaloons,

From Womens ill Nature as frail as the Moons,

From Francky's lame Jeſts, and Sir Rogers Lampoons

For ever O Fate deliver me.

SONGS never before in Print.

A new SONG made on the Parliaments removing from London to Oxford.

Tune, You Yorkſhire Lads be merry, &c.

1.

YE London Lads be merry,

Yere Parliament Friands are gene;

That made us an ſo ſorry,

And wou'd not let us alene:

But pecht us e'ry Ene,

Both Papiſt and Proteſtant too;

But to Oxford they are gene,

And the Deel gang with them I trow.

2.

Our gude King Charles Heven bleſs Him,

Protecting of Albanies Right;

Received from the Howſe ſike a Leſſon,

'Twas like to have ſet us at Strife▪

[Page]But Charles he ſwore by his Life,

Heed have ne mete ſike a dow;

And he packt them off by this Light,

And the Deel's gang'd with them I trow.

3.

There's Eſſex and Jemmy the Cully,

Were mickle too blame I dreed:

With Shaftsbury that States [...]Bully,

And aw the Factious Breed:

And wittal G—gud deed,

Who Pimps when his Wife doth Mow,

And holds the door for a need,

But the Deel will reward him I trow

4.

Fool Thin and half-witted M—t,

With Lo—ce, and Slabbering K—t;

With Gogling Flee-catching B—don

That nere knew yet what he meant;

And St—rd follows the ſcent

With Politick Armſtrong and How,

And they all a Petitioning went,

And the Deel [...]s gang'd with them I trow.

5.

Then Heven protect Great Albany,

Guide him from Piſtol and Gun,

And all the Plots of Anthony,

That Malitious Baboon:

Tho [...] ſham'd on the Pope of Rome ▪

As Dugdale and Oats do avow;

But in time they'l hang the Fauſe Loons,

And the Deel hang with them I trow.

A new SONG,

[Page]

to the Tune, Ye London Lads be Merry, &c.

1.

YOu Loyal Lads be merry,

For Perkin that State Buffoon,

Deſpis'd by Whig and by Tory,

For being ſo Fauſe a Loon:

To ſham the Court and the Town,

And muckle did ſwear and vow:

But like Prance he has chang'd his tone

And the D [...]el gang with him I trow:

2.

His Party had taught him his Leſſon,

And low he did ſue for Grace;

He whin'd out a doleful Confeſſion,

How great a Traytor he was;

And begg'd his Pardon might paſs,

For he was a Penitent now;

But he bid the Court Kiſs his Arſe,

And the Deel's gang'd with him I trow

3.

And once more he's got above Hatches,

And means to ſet up for a King;

The Politicks of his Scotch Dutcheſs,

This matter about did bring:

Ods wunds ſhe longs to be Queen,

If Perkin and ſhe knew how;

And yet in a Hempen-ſtring,

They may gang to the Deel I trow.

4.

And this laſt mark of his Treaſon,

Is muckle exceeding the reſt,

To aw Lads of Senſe and of Reaſon;

T'has gain'd him many a Curſe:

[Page]He might have been then at the worſt

Drawn in for a Cully of ſhew,

But now 'tis paſt all diſtruſt,

That the Deels gang'd with him I trew.

5

Now Heaven bleſs Charles the Second,

And grant him of Brutus [...]s mind;

And then his nene Son will be reckon'd

Among the Trayterous kind,

And equal Juſtice will find,

By God and St. Andrew I trow;

Were he o'my Daddy's nene kind,

He ſhould gang to the Deel I trew.

The Diſcoverers Diſcover'd.

A new Tune,

1.

DOwn Diſcoverers, who ſo long have Plotted

With Holy ſhams to gull the Nation,

Both Peer and Prelacy they uſeleſs Voted,

By the Old Babes of Reformation:

Property's all their cry, Rights and Freedom,

Laws and Religion they pull down;

With old Inteſtine Launce to bleed them,

From Lawn-Sleev'd Prelate to Purple Throne.

2

Confound the Hypocrites, Brumighams Royal,

Who think Allegiance a Trangreſſion;

Since to oppoſe the King is counted Loyal,

And to rail high at the Succeſſion:

Monarchy's Tyrany, Juſtice is Cruel,

Loyaliſts, Tories, and Rory Knaves;

And Dagons Liberty's a Jewel,

That we again may be Brewers Slaves.

[Page]

3.

Drink, drink my Boys ſince Plotting is in Seaſon,

And none Loyal call'd but buſie Brats of Faction

Rome, Rome no more thy Holy Treaſon,

We have thoſe at home of more divine extraction ▪

We have Peers and Parſons, Smiths and Coopers too,

Carpenters and Joyners of the Reformation;

All your Brood of Cloiſter'd Jeſuits out-do

To reduce to Duty a divided Nation.

4.

Let Whigs and Zealots dable deep in Treaſon,

And ſuck from the Spiggot Heavenly Revelation ▪

We in the Glaſs will find more ſolid Reaſon,

And our hearts enflam'd with nobler Inquiſition,

Let them boaſt of honeſt Brumighams and true,

And with thoſe Compoſe the Kirk of Separation:

We have honeſt Tories▪ Tom▪ Dick and Hugh,

We'll Drink on and do more Service for the Nation.

Fanatick Zeal, or a Looking-glaſs for the Whiggs.

Tune, A Swearing we will go, &c.

1.

WHo wou'd not be a Tory,

When the Loyal are call'd ſo,

And a Whig is known,

To be the Nations mortal Foe;

So a Tory I will be, will be, will be,

And a Tory I will be.

2.

With little Band, Preciſe

Hair Presbyterian Cutt;

Whigg turns up Hands and Eyes

Tho' Smoaking hot from Slut,

So a Tory I will be, &c.

[Page]

3.

Black Cap turn'd up with White,

With Woolfiſh-Neck and Face;

And Mouth with None-ſenſe ſtuft,

Speaks Whigg a man of Grace;

And a Tory I will be, &c.

4.

The Siſters go to Meetings

To meet their Gallants there;

And oft miſtake for my Lord,

And ſ [...]ivle out my Dear;

And a Tory I will be, &c.

5.

Example we do own,

Then Precept better is;

For Creſwel ſhe was ſafe,

When ſhe liv'd a Private Miſs.

And a Tory I will be, &c.

6.

The Whigs tho' ne'er ſo Proud,

Sometimes have been as low;

For there are ſome of Note,

Have hung a Raree-Show.

And a Tory I will be, &c.

7.

Theſe Muſhrooms to have got for

Their Champion turn coat Hick,

But if the Naked Truth were known,

They'r aſſiſted by Old N [...]ck

And a Tory I will be, &c.

8.

To be, and to be not

At once, is in their Power;

For when they're in they'r Guilty,

But clear when out o'th' Tower;

[Page]

9.

To carry on their Deſigns,

Tho't contradicts their Senſe;

They'll clear a Whiggiſh Traytor,

Againſt plain Evidence,

And a Tory I will be, [...]c.

10.

The old Proverb does tell us,

Each Dog will have his day;

And Pill has had his too,

For which he'll ſoundly pay;

So a Tory I will be, &c.

11.

For Bodkins and for Thimbles,

Now let your Tubſters Cant;

For your confounded tyr'd Cauſe,

[...]ad never yet more want;

So a Tory I will be, &c

12.

For Ignoramus Toney,

Has left you in the Lurch;

And you have ſpent your Money,

So faite e'en [...]come to Church;

So a Tory I will be, &c.

13:

They are of no Religion,

Be it ſpoken to their Glories,

For St Peter and St. Paul,

With them both are Tories;

And a Tory I will be, &c.

14

They're excellent Contrivers,

I wonder what they're not;

For ſomething they can make

Of nothing, and a Plot;

[Page]

15.

But now your Holy Cheat

Is known throughout the Nation;

And a Whigg is known to be

A thing quite out of Faſhion;

And a Tory I will be, will be, will be,

And a Tory I will be.

A new SONG on the Old Plot.

Tune, Tangier March.

1.

LEt the Whigs Repine and all Combine,

In a damn [...]d Aſſociation:

Let Tony Fret, and Perkin Sweat,

That their Plot's grown out of Faſhion,

Since our Royal Jemmey's come again

To ſpoil their Uſurpation;

Riſing like the ſplendid Sun,

To cheer the drooping Nation.

2.

You dull ſham Prince, whoſe Impudence

To a Throne would be aſpiring,

See the Rabble Crowd that made you proud,

Have ceas'd their loud admiring:

Curſe in time thoſe Rogues of State,

That taught you Rebel Notions;

And at the true Succeſſors Feet

Pay all your Juſt Devotions.

3.

Let Bully Tom receive his Doom,

So long ſince due in Reaſon;

For Murders then, and now again

For Mutiny and Treaſon:

To Kidnap Cully, ſtill has been

His buſineſs of Importance;

[Page]And now poor Perkin has drawn in,

And Rook'd out of his Fortunes.

4

In old Laws we find, the Cockold's kind

To thoſe that do Cornute him;

Or why ſhould Gray the Traytor play,

And to Perkin be ſupporting?

But the Co [...]comb fain would be

A Wittal to a King too;

That his Baſtards may again,

Rebel for ſome ſuch thing too.

5.

But of all Fools, a Pox on Tools,

That againſt all Law and Reaſon;

The Cauſe maintain, without the Gain

Or the Profit of the Treaſon:

What from Wit, or Courage, Hopes,

That Gaping Cully Brandon;

That does to Mungrel Perkin ſtoop,

And the Royal ſide Abandon.

6.

Fat Turnſpit Franck with Wit ſo ranck,

Has ſome excuſe for ſtarting;

Whom we deſpiſe, in time may riſe,

To be Jeſter to King Perkin:

But for Eſſex, S—d, Gray and K—t,

Thoſe Fools of Land and Money;

Why what the Deel was their intent

To ſet up Rebel Tony.

7.

The Poliſh Prince has ſome pretence,

To be Whigland Rabbles Hector;

And with Reaſ [...]n too may head the Crew,

And in time become Protector:

[Page]Since Ambition and Revenge

Are motives very moving;

But a Plague on Fools that him do bring,

To Rogues muſt Rule above him.

8.

Oh! ye Tapland Crew that Treaſon brew,

And of Tony make an Idol;

And Perkin ſham with King in Name,

The King of the Golden Medall.

Curſe and Damn the Black-Cabal,

That Inſpir'd your Rebel knowledge;

E're Billa vera find you all

The Fate of Pious Colledge.

The Whigs Downfall.

Tune, Hey Boys up go we.

NOw, now the Antichriſtian Crew

Shall all go down, becauſe

Our Magiſtrates do well purſue,

And Execute the Laws:

Thoſe Raſcals who do always rail

Againſt all Law with Spight;

Would make a Law againſt the Law,

Great York ſhould looſe his Right.

To perfect which, they made their choice

Of Parliaments of late,

Of Members that had nought but Voice,

And Megrims in their Pate:

Wi. Williams he the Speaker was,

And is't not wondrous ſtrange;

The Reaſons plain, he told it was,

Becauſe they would not change.

[Page]

He told you Truth, nor think it ſtrange;

He knew well their intent,

They never meant themſelves to change,

But change the Government:

For now cry they the King's ſo poor,

He dares not with us part;

And therefore we moſt Loyally

Will break his Royal Heart.

The Habeas Corpus Act is paſt,

And ſo far we are ſafe;

He can't Impriſon us ſo faſt,

But ſtrait we have Relief:

He can't deny us ought we ask,

In ſo much need he ſtands;

And before that we do Money give,

We'll tye up both his Hands.

The Preſidents of Forty One,

Which were till Forty Eight;

Now our Preſidents are grown,

For why they had their weight:

So weighty were they, they cut off

Our Royal Monarch's Head;

The ſelf ſame Reaſon bids us now,

To act the ſelf ſame deed.

And when we have a Martyr made

Of another Gracious King,

Then all the [...]aiterous Plots we've laid,

We to perfection bring:

And to protect our Wicked Deeds,

Religion ſhall go down;

We [...]ll [...]out out all the Royal Seed,

Pretenders to the [...]ro [...]n.

[Page]

Thus having Monarchy deſtroy'd,

We'll govern by Free-will;

The Light of the Spirit ſhall be our guide,

Then what man can do ill:

Religion is the ſureſt cloak

To hide our Treachery;

The Rabble we'll confine to th' yoak

Pretending to ſet Free.

Therefore my Country men, truſt not

Where Religion's the pretence;

For if you do, you'll find a Plot

To deſtroy your Innocence:

For thoſe who lead you to Rebel,

You'll find i'th' cloſe to be,

Pure Inſtruments were ſent from Hell

To foment Treachery.

The Downfall of the Good Old Cauſe.

Tune, Hey Boys up go We.

NOw the bad Old Cauſe is Tapt,

And the Veſſel ſtandeth ſtoop'd;

The Cooper may ſtarve for want of work,

For the Cask ſhall never be hoop [...]d:

We will burn the Aſſociation,

The Covenant, and Vow;

The publick Cheat of the Nation,

Anthony, now, now, now.

No Fanatick ſhall bear the ſway,

In Court, City, or Town;

Three good Kingdoms to Betray,

And cry the Right Line down:

[Page]Let them cry, They love the King;

Yet if they hate his Brother,

Remember Charles they Murdered,

And ſo they would the other.

Weavers and ſuch like Fellows

In Pulpit daily Pret;

Like the Covenanters,

Againſt the Church and State:

Yet they cry, They love the King;

But their Buſineſs will diſcover,

Charles the firſt they Murdered,

And ſo they would the tother.

Where theſe Fellows go to Drink,

In City or in Town;

They Villify the Biſhops,

And they cry the Stewarts down;

Still they cry, They love the King,

But their Buſineſs I'll diſcover;

Charles the firſt they Murdered,

And ſo they would the tother.

When the King wanted Money,

Poor Yangier to Relieve;

They cryed down his Revenue,

Not a Penny they would give:

Still they cry'd, They love the King ▪

But their Buſineſs I'll diſcover;

Charles the firſt they Murdered,

And ſo they would the tother.

The Noble Marqueſs of Worceſter,

And many ſuch Brave Lord;

By the King-killing Crew,

They daily are Abhor'd:

[Page]And call'd Evil Councello [...]s,

When the Truth they did diſcover;

And Charles the firſt they Murdered,

And ſo they would the tother.

The Papiſts they would kill the King ▪

But the Fanaticks did;

Their Perjuries and Treacheries

Are not to be parallel'd:

Let them cry, They love the King,

Their Faults I will diſcover;

Charles the firſt they Murdered,

And ſo they would the tother.

Charles the 2d. ſtands on his Guard,

Like a good Politick King;

The Fanaticks ought to be abhor'd,

For all their Flattering:

Let them cry, They love the King,

Their Tricks I will diſcover;

Charles the firſt they Murdered,

And ſo they will the tother.

Now let all good Subjects be

That bear a Loyal heart;

Stand faſt for the King,

And each man Act his part:

And to ſupport his Sovereign,

Religion and the Laws,

That formerly were eſtabliſh'd,

And down with the Curſed Cauſe.

Jack Ke [...]ch's new SONG; or, a Warning to Conſpirators.

[Page]

Tune,

1.

I Hang, and Behead,

Until you be Dead,

O Dire!

Raw Head, Bloody Bones,

Fling Members and Stones

In the Fire.

2.

Is't not better be merry

With Claret and Sherry;

'Tis Reaſon,

Then to have your Soul

Let out at your Poll,

For Treaſon ▪

3.

Your Brains for to puzle,

Like Walcot and Ruſſel

Conſpiring;

'Tis better be Swilling,

Then Plund'ring, and Killing,

And Firing

4.

'Tis better to ſave

One's Neck, and be brave,

Or be Sotting;

Then have a Chop with a Hatchet,

Or a Halter to ſtretch it

For Plotting.

5.

The Drunk, and the Brave,

Nor Traytor, nor Knave,

[Page]Can be ever

Their Deaths he defyes,

But at Tilting, he dies

Or a Feavor.

6.

To be Traytor proclaim'd,

Deſcrib'd, and be Nam'd,

And Money—

This 'tis, to be Cullies,

To the Vileſt of Bullies

Old Tony.

7

To be frighted each Hour,

With Newgate, or Tower,

And Trying.

Conviction, and Sentence,

At Tyburn Repentance

And Dying.

8

Then leave Plotting, and Treaſon,

To the void of all Reaſon

And Senſe;

Your Pardon, Jack cries,

'Tis the Whigs I adviſe,

No Offence.

A SONG of the Light of the Nation turn'd into Darkneſs.

Tune, called Cavalilly-man.

COme all you Caballers and Parliament Votes,

That ſtickl'd for hanging & cutting of throats

Lament the misfortune of perjur'd Otes.

Who firſt muſt be Pillor'd, and after be Hang'd.

[Page]

What Devil ſuſpected this, 5 years agon,

When I was in hopes to hang up half the Town,

I Swore againſt Miler, and Curſed the Crown,

But now muſt be Pillor'd, and after be Hang [...]d.

I curs'd the Biſhops and hang'd up the Prieſts,

I ſwore my ſelf Doctor, yet never could Preach,

But a Cant full of Blaſpemy's all I could reach,

I firſt muſt be Pillor'd, and after be Hang'd.

Now Otes is i'th' Cupboard & Manger with Colt,

The Caldron may boyl me for fear I ſhould molt,

Here I've ne'r a Bum for a Wheel-barrow jolt,

Yet now muſt be Pillor'd, and after be Hang'd.

My thouſand Commiſſions and Spaniſh Black-Blls,

Inviſible Armies lodg'd upon Hills,

Such old perjur'd Nonſence my Narrative fills,

That I now muſt be Pillor [...]d, and after be Hang'd.

My twelve Pounds a Week, I want to ſupport▪

For ſtinking i'ch' City and fouling the Court,

Like the Devil in Dungeon, I'm now hamper'd fort.

A firſt muſt be Pillor [...]d, and after be Hang'd.

They Hang us in order the Devil knows how,

'Zounds all that e [...]e put [...]ne paw to the Plow,

I ne'r fear'd the Devil would fail me till now,

That I firſt muſt be Pillor'd, and after be Hang'd.

For calling the Duke a Papiſt and Traytor,

I often have call'd the King little better,

I'm faſt by the heels like a Beaſt in a Fetter,

I firſt muſt be Pillor'd, and after be Hang'd.

I ſwore that the Queen would Poyſon the King ▪

That Wakeman had Moneys the Poyſon to bring▪

When I knew in my heart there was no ſuch thing.

I now muſt be Pillor'd, and after be Hang'd.

[Page]

I'm Reſolv'd to be Hang'd dead drunk like Hugh Peter,

If I can but have my Skin ſtuft with good Liquor,

Then I ſhall limp to old Tapskie much quicker.

But I firſt muſt be Pillor [...]d, and after be hang'd.

A new SGNG.

To the Tune of Young Jemmy.

1.

'TWas a fooliſh fancy Jemmy,

To put your Truſt in Tony;

He dipt ye all in Treaſon,

Then humbly Dy'd in Seaſon;

When his Spiggot dropt out,

The Plot came about▪

Far beyond your Graces Reaſon.

2.

'Twere fit you'd mind theſe matters,

And help your Brother Traytors;

You left your Friends together,

To ſhift for one another;

Who you well all know,

Were in Portingal-Row

With a Lady and her Mother.

3.

When you went from Jerman-ſtreet Sir,

Your Friends you went to meet Sir;

Poor Betty was much griev'd Sir,

You could not be believ'd Sir;

Had ſhe been in the way,

You had carry'd the day;

But alas you were deceive'd Sir.

4.

Franck N—t's wondrous hearty.

And Argues for the Party;

[Page]His parts are moſt inviting,

And lately ſhin'd in Writing;

And he hath in his Face,

As much Wir as you've Grace;

Which to ſay the Truth is Biting.

5.

Thus Sir while you're attended,

Your troubles will be ended;

Keep Franck ſtill for your Writer,

And P—y for your Fighter

And to add to your ſway,

Turn [...]—r away,

[...]d make poor Ha—t fright her.

6.

[...] For—s have a place too,

[...]bout your mighty Grace too;

[...]h—ton hath great reaſon

[...] look out ſharp in Season,

[...] Gibbons his place

[...] a Nobler Race;

[...] [...]ake Sir R—d M-n.

7.

[...] he hath more wit than any

[...]o turn and wind the Penny;

H [...]l lye beyond all meaſure,

[...] Pimping is his Pleaſure;

A [...] he's for his part,

[...]ore a Rogue in his Heart,

T [...] Gray or Armſtrong either.

8.

May Friends like theſe protect ye,

And only theſe reſpect ye;

May Halters, Chains and Fetters,

Crown all Rebellious Traytors;

[Page]Then in a ſhort ſpace

I'll wait on your Grace,

With a Liſt of all your Creatures.

Oates's Bug— Bug— Boarding-School, at Camberwell.

Tune, Lord Ruſſel's Farewel.

ROwſe, Rowſe my lazy Mirmidons,

And muſter up our Tribe;

See how the Factious Fancies ſtand,

To trim or croſs the Tyde:

Invite 'em to my Vaulting School,

The Saints for freedom tell;

How they may live without Controul,

With me at Camberwell.

There all Proviſion ſhall be made

To entertain the beſt,

Old Mother Creſwel of our Trade,

For to rub down our Gueſts;

Three hundred of the briskeſt Dames,

In Park or Field e're fell:

Whoſe Am [...]rous Eyes ſhall charm the flames

O'th' Saints at Camberwell.

For my own ſpending I will keep

Of Boys three hundred more,

They are to my Appetite, more ſweet

Then Bawd or Buckſom Whore:

The Turks Seraglio we'll revive,

He ſinks ſo faſt for Hell:

Our Engliſh Turks may Plot and thrive,

With me at Camberwell.

That Sacred place ſhall tempt his Grace,

Once more from Friends to fall:

[Page]He'll leave theſe new-fond Sweets to trace

Both Moor-Park and Whitehall;

For Gray and Tom [...]t ſhall be their home,

To Kiſs Secure and Dwell;

Where e'ry Laſs ſhall hug his Grace,

[...]n my ſweet Camberwell.

[...]ence ſhall from the Cock-loft creep,

[...]nd here have free-Acceſs:

[...] [...]ear and Drink to Whore and Sleep,

[...]h Virtues we profeſs;

[...] his Pots of Veniſon,

[...] [...]ook for Prieſts, may ſell:

[...]ber-Necklaces make known

[...] Saints at Camberwell.

[...] may meet his Miſtreſs here,

[...]times Sir Robert's Wife;

[...]ree from care in joys may ſhare,

[...]ay prolong ones Life:

[...]daring Gibbet 'fore my Gate,

[...] tear him down to Rights;

[...] [...]ſe no Emblems of ill Fate,

[...]ll fright our Amorous Nights.

Ar [...] and Lob, and Ferguſon,

[...]d all Abſconding Saints;

Ma [...] [...]afely to their Saviour come,

[...]d taſte our ſweet Content:

Ou [...] [...]rgeſt Rooms to frisk and ſport,

[...]s round, and Curtains drawn;

The Life and Scene of Venus Court,

Excelling Englands Throne.

All naked round the Room we'll Dance,

Fine Limbs and Shapes to ſhow:

[Page]In pairs by Candle-light advance,

In dazeling poſtures go:

Here every Man obtains his Choice,

Siſter, Madam, or Nell:

We'll have Papillion and Duboys,

To my ſweet Camberwell.

The Royal Admiral, an excellent new SONG on His Illuſtrious Highneſs the Duke of York His [...]ing confirm'd High-Admiral of England.

1.

FAction and Folly (alas!) will deceiv [...] you,

The Loyal man ſtill the beſt Subject d [...] [...]ve;

Treaſon of Reaſon (poor Whig) will berea [...] [...];

You cannot be bleſs'd, till this Curſe yo [...] [...].

Charles our great Monarch, when Heav'n di [...] [...]tore

With His Royal Brother, ſafe on our S [...] Him.

Ordain'd us, that we next our King ſhou [...] [...]re

Then Johnſon play the Apoſtate no mo [...] [...]im,

2.

Clayton may fret, and bring Vows of Obedience

To Ferguſon, Baxter, to Curtis and Care;

Patience approach with pretended Allegiance

To his Sov'reign Lord, yet oppoſe the right Heir

Can he pretend to be Honeſt or Loyal,

Nay though he late at Weſtminſter ſwore,

And yet the next day will (like Perkin) deny all,

Whate [...]r he ſaid, or ſwore to before?

3.

Let Trenchard and Hambden ſtir up a Commotion,

Their Plotting and Voting will proſper no more;

Now Gallant Jemmy commands on the Ocean,

And mighty Charles keeps them in awe on the Shoar.

Let Lobb and Ferguſon preach up Sedition

At Coffee houſe, Conventicle, Cabal,

[Page]Now Jefferys is Juſtice, and York in Commiſſion,

Their Scandal and Plots ſhall pay for 'em all.

4.

Jemmy the Valiant, the Champion Royal,

His own and the Monarchs Rivals withſtood;

The bane and the terrour of all the Diſloyal,

Who ſpilt the late Martyr's, and ſought for His Blood

Jemmy who quell'd the proud Foe on the Ocean,

And reign'd the ſole Conqueror over the Main

To this brave Heroe let's all pay Devotion,

Since He is Englands Admiral again.

5.

York our great Adm'ral, the Oceans Defender,

The Joy of his Friends, & the Dread of His Foes,

The lawful Succeſſor, what Baſtard-Pretender

(Whom Heav'n the true Heir has ordain'd) dare [...]ppoſe?

[...] who taught the Scotch Rebels Allegiance,

And made the High Dutch his Standard to low'r,

In time will reduce the proud Cit to Obedience,

And make the falſe Whig fall down and adore.

6.

Let Bethel and Hambden lie ſhopt for their Treaſon,

And for the new Factions expreſs their old Zeal;

Let falſe Sir Samuel rail on without reaſon,

And ev'ry night dream of a new Commonweal;

Plotters be brought with their Plots to confuſion,

While Charles ſways the Shoar, and York the vaſt Main.

Till all are confounded who ſought the Excluſion,

Then England will be old England again.

7.

Then to our Monarch let's quaff off a Bumper,

And next to our Sov'reign, the Prince of the Flood;

[Page]The Ax and the Gibbet crown ev'ry Rumper,

Who York in the lawful Succeſſion withſtood.

May Rumbold, Gray, Armſtrong, with Sidney be Sainted

And Titus [...]s long Tongue, ſo often forſworn.

May his ſhort Neck ſtretch for't when Oats is attainted.

And wiſh with the World he had never been born.

Loyalty reſpected, and Faction confounded.

To a Pleaſant New Tune.

1.

LEt Cannons roar from Sea to Shoar,

[...]nd Trumpets ſound Triumphantly;

We'll fair in Wealth while we drink a Health

To the High Born Prince of Albany.

Of Albany, of Albany,

To the High Born Prince of Albany:

We'll fair in Wealth, while we drink a Health

To the High Born Prince of Albany.

2.

He's the Son of Scotlands womb,

Though his Nativity be Thames;

He's of the Glorious Martyr Sprung,

And bears the Name of good King James.

Of Albany, &c.

3.

Our Princes and our Nobles all

Do not our Loyalty Diſgrace:

Nor no enormity at all

Nor Baſtardize the Royal Race,

Of Albany, &c.

4.

Let Hagar and her Birth be gone,

Her Bottle on her Shoulder be;

For Sarah ſaid unto her Son,

He ſhall not be an Heir with thee.

[Page] An Heir with thee, an Heir with thee,

He ſhall no be an Heir with thee;

For Sarah ſaid unto her Son,

He ſhall be an Heir with thee.

5.

Put all theſe Fancies quite away,

And preſs down that Egyptian pride;

Before he wants a Seigniory,

We'll place him King on Yarrow ſide,

On Yarrow ſide, on Yarrow ſide,

We'll place him King on Yarrow ſide,

Before he wants a Seigniory,

We'll place him King on Yarrow ſide

6.

I know not why he ſhould be King,

Unleſs for Muſtering of the Whiggs:

No wonder, though they act the thing,

He ſpar'd them well at Bothwell-Brigs.

On Yarrow ſide, &c.

6.

So Nobly he did act his part,

By ſparing theſe Rebellious Clowns;

That he came down and let a Fart,

And ſo march'd back with his Dragoons,

With his Dragoons, with his Dragoons,

And ſo march'd back with his Dragoons,

That he came down and let a Fart,

And ſo march'd back with his Dragoons.

The Whiggs Diſappointment upon their intended Feaſt.

Tune, Cook Lawrel.

1.

HAve you heard of a Feſtival Convent of late,

Compos'd of a pack of Notorious Diſſenters,

[Page]Appointed by Tickets in Whigland to meet,

To Sign and to Seal Covenanted Indentures.

2.

The day was appoited, and all things prepar'd

In order thereto, by the Sages o'th' Nation,

And a Reverend Sermon was there to be heard,

T'exhort 'em to th' Oath of Aſſociation.

3.

All ſorts of Trades-men were bid to be there,

The Lords, Abhorrers, and Commoners too,

But the Cooper 'fore all was to take the Chair,

To ſet forth the matter as well he knew how.

4

The Godly Gown-man all Chain'd and Fur'd,

Two Shrieves, & the Deel knows what of the Rable;

Invited on purpoſe, and ſet on, and Spurr'd,

To make a Confuſion worſe than old Babel.

5.

The chief of the Feaſt was a Fop and a Mouth,

Buy'd up by the City Cooper and Player;

Whoſe Name they'd extended from North to South

By th' trick of a Black-Box to make him an Heir.

6.

For down into Durham an Envoy was ſent,

Amongſt the Chief, the Northern Clergies,

To find out a Writing to that very intent:

Who had thirty good Guineys to bear his Charges.

7.

The Reverend Titus was Chaplain to th' Feaſt,

Brim-full of Plots with Oaths to maintain them;

The Deel could afford them no ſuch Gueſt,

'Mongſt all his damn'd Crew to entertain them.

8.

Next in came Janway, Curtis, Vile and Care,

[Page]With his Packets of Lies thruſt under his A [...]m,

Then Don Danger [...]eldo more ſubtile by far,

Then poor Mother Cellier, that acted no harm,

9.

All ſorts of Informers were bid to be there,

And the damn'd Ignoramus [...]urors too,

To participate of this Feſtival Cheer,

By way of Thanksgiving for what they did do.

10.

Some hundreds more were to be at the Feaſt;

And all things thereunto were fitted,

But in ſteps an Order which foreſtall'd the Gueſts,

Disbanding the Cooks e're the meat was half ſpitted

11.

Tag, Rag, and Long-tail were all to come in,

To ſit at this King of Polands Table,

The Feaſt I conceive elſe was not worth a Pin,

Without the conſent of an Inſolent Rable.

12.

What Pining and Fretting, and Fuming was there,

When all the good Creatures were laid aſide,

'T would make a Saint both to ſtamp and ſtare,

To ſee ſuch a Zealous Aſsembly decry [...]d.

13.

Here now the Nation was thus ſettled,

And all things be brought to a better Cue,

Here a new Government was to be ſettled,

And the Deel knows what beſides they would do

14.

Some think it was like to the Oxford ſtroke,

Which was well, being given in Seaſon▪

And ſome think they're under a burthenſ [...]m yoak,

'Cauſe they may not Aſsemble for ſedition [...] treaſon

[Page]

15.

Some hold it not prudently Acted at all,

To check an Aſſembly of ſo great an Intention,

Who ſtudy'd and aim'd at the Tory's down-fall,

In raiſing the Whigs by a new Invention.

16.

Some ſay they were nettled, and galled within,

To ſee our great York embrac'd by the City,

If that be the Cauſe on't we care not a Pin,

Let them hang up each other, and ſo ends my Dity.

The Weſt-Country-man's SONG at a Wedding.

1.

UDs hearty Wounds, I'ſe not to Plowing, not I Sir,

Becauſe I hear there's ſuch brave doings hard by Sir,

Thomas the Minſtrel, he's gone twinkling before Sir

And they talk there will be two or three more Sir

Who the Rat can mind either Byard or Ball Sir,

Or any thing at all Sir,

For thinking of Drinking i'th' Hall Sir,

E'gad not I, let Maſter fret it and ſtorm it,

I am reſolv'd, I'm ſure there can be no harm in't

Who would loſe the zight of the Laſses & Pages,

And pretty little Sue, ſo true when ſhe ever engages

E'gad not I, I'd rather loſe all my Wages.

2.

There's my Lord has got the curioureſt Daughter,

Look but on her, and ſhe'll make the Chops on the water,

This is the day the Ladies are all about her,

Zome to Veed her, zome to Dreſs her, & clout her,

Ods bud, ſhe's grown the veateſt, the neateſt, the ſweeteſt,

[Page]The pretty'ſt little Rogue, and all men do ſay the diſcreeteſt,

There's ne'r a Girl that wears a Head in the Nation

But muſt give place, ſince Mrs. Betty's Creation,

She's zo good, zo witty, zo pretty to pleaſe ye;

Zo charitably kind, zo courteous & loving & eaſie,

That I'ſe be bound to make a Maid of my Mother,

If London Town can e're ſend down ſuch another

3.

Next my Lady in all her Gallant Apparel,

I'ze not forget the thundring thumping Barrel,

There's ſuch drink, the ſtrongeſt head can't bear it

'Twill make a Vool of Zack or Whit-wine or Claret

And zuch plenty that 20 or 30 good Vellows,

May tipple off their Cups until they lie down on their Pillows;

Then hit off thy Vrock and don't ſtand ſcratching thy Head ſo,

For thither I'll go, Ods Wunds becauſe I've zed ſo

The Dyet of Cowley.

NOw by my Love; the greateſt Oath that is;

None loves you half ſo well as I,

I do not ask your Love for this,

Bu [...] for Heaven's believe me, or I die;

No ſervant e're but did deſerve,

His Maſter ſhould believe that he does ſerve;

And I'll ask no more Wages though I ſtarve.

2.

'Tis no Luxuri [...]u Diet this, and ſure,

I can't by't too luſty prove.

Yet ſhall it willingly endure;

I [...] [...] can but keep together Life and Love,

Being your Priſoner and your Slave;

[Page]I do not Feaſts or Banquets love to have,

A little Bread and Water's all I crave.

3.

On a ſigh of pity, I a year can live,

One Tear will keep me 20 at leaſt,

Fifty, a gentle look will give;

An 100 one, one kind word I'll Feaſt:

A 1000, more added be

If you an Inclination have for me,

And all beyond is vaſt Eternity.

A Prophetical Catch.

To the Tune, Of the merry Chriſt-Church-Bells.

1.

OH! the Plot Diſcoverers,

Oates, Bedloe, Dugdale, Prance!

They are ſuch Crafty Dogs,

That none but Scroggs

Can feage them Cuningly, cunningly.

2.

Oh! the curſed damn'd ſham Plot,

Which ſome believe, but more do not,

Becauſe the Laws

Have found ſuch Flaws,

In them of all our Ills, the Cauſe.

3.

Bedlow, they ſay, tother day at a Play,

For his Impudence was bang'd;

But the Plot will not

E're be forgot,

Till Oates and all are hang'd.

The Couragious Loyalliſts; Or, A Health to the Royal Family

[Page]

Tune, Burton-hall.

1.

DRown Melanchally

in a Glaſs of Wine;

We will be jolly,

let the Miſer pine:

Boys drink about,

we'll make the Tavern roar,

When the Bumper's out,

we'll call again for more:

It makes good Blood

to run within our Veins,

It puts good reaſon alſo

in our Brains:

He that will deny it,

hanged let him be,

Here's to all

the Royal Progeny.

2.

Boys we'll be merry,

whatſoe'r enſue,

Drink Sack and Sherry.

till the Skie looks blew;

Let the Whiggs lament,

and whiningly complain,

We with one conſent,

drink to the Royal Train;

Heavens bleſs Great Charles,

and the Duke of York,

All the Lords and Earls,

and every Royal Spark;

Down with every Factious,

ſhamming, whining Crew,

[Page]Give them Rope and Hanging,

ſince it is their due.

3.

Drawer bring us Wine,

fill the other Bowl,

Let us loſe no time,

for he's an honeſt Soul

That doth love his Prince,

and the ancient Laws,

He is a man of Senſe,

he ſhall have our Applauſe;

As for mighty Charles,

his Renowned Name,

Let it be Recorded

in the Books of Fame:

But he that will deny

Allegiance to the King,

Hang him▪ let him die,

and in a Halter ſwing:

4.

Brave Noble Sions,

be you ſtout and true,

Stand in Defiance

of the Rabble Crew;

They that deſign'd

our Laws to undermine,

We will make them flye,

like Chaff before the Wind:

Thoſe that did conſent,

yielding to allow,

Thoſe that did invent

the Aſsociation Vow,

To conceal their Treaſon,

hang 'um let them ſwing,

[Page]Here's a Health to Charles,

the moſt Renowned King.

5

Now ſure the Whigs,

they will no more Rebel,

Old Cromwel's Piggs

that ſuck'd up the ſwill;

Their hopes are drowned,

as we plainly ſee,

Some were counfounded

in their Villainy;

Tommy he is fled,

Tony he is Dead.

Some of them were Hang'd,

others loſt their Had▪

Ketch in concluſion

pay'd them their Arrears,

Since this Confuſion

how they hang their Ears!

6.

Then learn to bow,

and in Obedience ſtand,

To Caeſar now

the Glory of the Land,

None can convince,

for what I ſpeak is true,

He is a Prince

of love and pitty too:

Thoſe that are Loyal,

they are perfect free,

There's no denyal

of their Liberty;

Then true hearts be merry,

make the Tavern ring,

[Page]Fling up your Caps,

and cry, God Save the KING.

A new SONG,

to an Old Tune, Tom of Bedlam.

MAke room for an Honeſt Red-Coat,

(And that you'll ſay's a wonder:)

The Gun, and the Blade,

Are his Tools,—and his Trade,

Is for Pay, to Kill, and Plunder.

Then away with the Laws,

And the Good old Cauſe,

Ne'r talk o'th' Rump, or the Charter,

'Tis the Caſh does the Feat,

All the reſt's but a Cheat,

Without that there's no Faith, nor Quarter.

'Tis the mark of our Coin, GOD WITH ƲS,

And the Grace of our Lord goes along with't,

When the Georges are flown,

Then the Cauſe goes down,

For the Lord is departed from it.

Then away, &c.

For Rome, or for Geneva,

For the Table, or the Altar,

This ſpawn of a Vote,

He cares not a Groat—

For the Pence, he's your Dog in a Halter.

Then away, &c.

Tho' the Name of King, or Biſhop,

To Noſtrils pure may be Loathſom,

Yet many there are,

That agree with the Mayor,

That their Lands are wondrous toothſom.

Then away, &c.

[Page]

When our Maſters are Poor, we leave 'em,

'Tis the Golden Calf we bow to:

We Kill, and we ſlay,

No [...] for Conſcience, but Pay;

Give us That, we'll fight for you too.

Then away, &c.

'Twas that firſt turn'd the King out;

The Lords next; then the Commons:

'Twas that kept up Noll,

Till the Devil fetch'd his Soul;

And then it ſet the Bum on's.

Then away, &c.

Drunken Dick was a Lame Protector,

And Fleetwood a Backſlider:

Theſe we ſerv'd as the reſt,

But the City's the Beaſt

That will never caſt her Rider.

Then away, &c.

When the Mayor holds the Stirrop,

And the Shrieves cry, God ſave your Honours:

Then 'tis but a Jump,

And up goes the Rump,

That will ſpur to the Devil upon us.

Then away, &c.

And now for a fling at your Thimbles,

Your Bodkins, Kings, and Whiſtles,

In truck for your Toyes

We'll ſit you with Boys:

'Tis the Doctrine of Hugh Peters,

To the Butchers Wife

Then away, &c.

When your Plate is gone, and your Jewels,

You muſt be next intreated,

[Page]To part with your Bags,

And ſtrip you to Rags,

And yet not think y'are cheated.

Then away &c.

The truth is, the Town deſerves it;

'Tis a Brainleſs, Heartleſs Monſier:

As a Club they may Bawl,

Or Declare at their Hall,

And yet a [...] puſh not one ſtir.

Then away, &c.

Sir Arthur vow'd h [...]'ll treat 'em,

Far worſe than the men of Cheſter:

He [...]s Bold; now they're Cow'd,

But he was nothing ſo Lowd

When he lay in the ditch at Leſter.

Then away, &c.

The Lord ha [...]h left John Lambert,

And the Spirit, Feak's Anointed,

But why oh Lord,

Haſt thou ſheat [...]ed thy Sword?

Lo, thy Saints are diſappointed▪

Then away, &c.

Tho' Sir Henry be departed:

Sir John makes good the place now,

And to help out the work

Of the Glorious Kirk,

Our Brethren march apace too,

Then away, &c.

While Divines, and States men wrangle,

Let the Rump-ridden Nation bite on't,

There are none but we

That are ſure to go free,

[Page]For the Souldies's ſtill in the right on't.

Then away, &c.

If our Maſters w'ont ſupply us

With Money, Food and Clothing:

Let the State look to't,

We'll find one that will do't,

Let him Live,—we'll not damn for nothing,

Then away with the Laws,

And the Good old Cauſe,

N'er talk o'the Rump, or the Charter,

'Tis the Caſh does the feat,

All the reſt's but a Cheat,

Without That there's no Faith nor Quarter.

Oates well Thraſh'd, being a Dialogue between a Country Farmer, and his man Jack.

Tune, Which no body can deny. Repeat the burden twice.

Jack.

OUr Oates, laſt week not worth a Groat,

Have, Sir, (which all do wonder at)

Abomination thriv'd of late;

Which no Body can deny, Sir,

Maſter.

Be all the Tribe of Oates Accurs'd,

And the Old Dotard too, that firſt

The Brat within his Hedges nurſt,

And ſow'd ſuch Wicked ſeed, Boy.

Jack.

Good Maſter, pray your Fury ſtop;

For, as the Saying is, I hope,

You'll ſhortly ſhortly ſee a Doctor-Crop,

And many more beſides, Sir.

[Page]Maſter.

A Curſe on every thing, that's call'd Oates;

Both Old and Young, both Black and White Oates,

Both Long and Short, both Light and Tite Oates:

I hate the Vip'rous Seed, Boy.

Jack.

Your Oates, now Ripe, Sir, do appear;

For they begin to hang the Ear;

The Time of Cu [...]ting them draws near,

If my Skill fails me not, Sir.

Maſter.

Then down with 'em, and all their Train;

Let not a Blade of them remain,

Our poor Land to infect again;

'Tis pitty one ſho [...]ld ſcape, Boy.

Jack.

Where ſhall I reek them, (the Sithe [...]s Edge

They've felt) in Barn, or under Hedge?

For they are fit for Cart, or Sledge,

And a Roping only want, Sir.

Maſter.

E'en if thou wilt, lodge them in thy Barn;

For they ſhall ne'r come amongſt my Corn;

Or Cart them, if thou wilt, to Tyburn;

And there too Truſs them up, B [...]y.

Jack.

Th' are hous'd, Sir; But the Traſh all Senſe

Exceeds, that's in 'em: By what Means,

This Filthy Oates ſhall we e're cleanſe?

From all that Roguiſh Stuff, Sir?

Maſter.

—

Jack.

Go, get a pack of Sturdy Louts,

[Page]And let them luſtily Threſh their Coats;

Too well you cannot Threſh Damn'd Oates;

Which no body can deny, Boy.

Jack

Th'are threſh'd, and wimb'd and made as clean,

As hands can do't; but all in vain:

For ſtill Baſe Oates behind remain:

What ſhall we do with 'em, Sir?

Maſter.

Let 'em divided be like Martyrs

Of Royal Juſtice) into Quarters;

Then ground in Mill, or bray'd in Mortars:

So Oates ought to be ſerv'd, Boy.

Jack.

How ſhall I uſe the Straw? 'Tis good

Only to caſt out into the Road,

And under Foot to Dung be tr [...]d;

And there to lye and r [...]t, Sir,

Maſter.

Burn't, like an Here [...]ick, in Flame;

And Expiate ſo our Guilt and Shame,

For giving Long-Tail'd Oates ſuch Fame,

Abhorr'd by all but vs, Boy.

Beyond Sea th' are kick't out of Door;

But held with us Here in ſuch Store,

That Oates we even do Adore:

But Curſt be Oates, ſay I, Boy

Jack.

What ſhall we now at laſt, Sir, do

With this Same Paultry Oates, by You

So hated, and admired by few;

And thoſe both Knaves and Fools, Sir.

[Page]Maſter.

Let Oates be caſt to Ravenous Hogs,

Or ground for Meat for Hungry Dogs;

And no where Sown, but in deep Bogs,

Or Bottom of a Jakes, Boy.

Or to the Fowls o'th' Air be thrown,

By Vermine to be prey'd upon;

Or out o'th' World by Whirlwinds blown,

To th' Devil's Arſe of Peak, Boy.

Let ev'ry Tongue, and Tail i'th' Iſle

Of Man, of Bird, of Beaſt, defile

Oates ſo Deteſtable, Oates ſo Vile;

And 'twill be ſo, thou'lt ſee, Boy.

Or if to Popery thou incline,

Thou ſhalt have Oates incag'd in Shrine,

And ſhew about that Traſh Divine ▪

And this will get thee Pence, Boy.

Jack

Let it, good Maſter, pray be ſo,

And I'le amongſt the Papiſts go,

with my O raree Shite, and my O brave Show,

Till I a Penſion get, Sir.

And then I'le Coach it up and down,

From Country, and from Town to Town,

Till o're the World I [...]ve made Oates known,

For a very Rogue in Grain, Sir.

The Tories Tryumph; or, the Point well weather'd.

To a New Theatre Tune,

SOme ſay, the Papiſts had a Plot,

Againſt the Church and Crown;

But be it ſo, or be it not,

The King muſt pleaſe the Town.

The Papiſts take Tyburn by turns,

To pleaſe the City Gulls;

[Page]It's ſtrange, that they who all wear Horns,

Should fear the Popiſh Bulls

2.

The Houſe of Commons blow the Coals,

The Nation to diſſettle;

And like two Tinkers, make two Holes

To mend one in a Kettle:

Or elſe▪ What needs that precious Vote,

That if the King ſhould Fall

By Pagan, or Phanatick Plot,

The Pope muſt pay for all?

3.

Our Royal James of Princely Race,

And High-Illuſtrious Fame,

Was not thought fit by Commons baſe,

To follow Charles's Waine:

But let that Houſe of Office know,

When they have Sow'd their Leaven,

He ſhall Succeed though they ſay no,

By all the Laws of Heaven.

4.

Old Cavaliers for Loyalty

They ſtreight Clapt up for Treaſon,

In hopes to bring in Anarchy,

'Gainſt Juſtice, Senſe and Reaſon.

Brave Hallifax and Feverſham,

Brave Worſter, Juſt and Wiſe,

They did Vote down, as dangerous Men,

That they themſelves might Riſe.

5.

But Oh! That Lord in Leiſterſhire,

Turn'd Catchpole, though too late:

'Tis b [...]tter [...]rieſts in Priſon were,

Then Burns ſhould loſe their Trade.

[Page]For Prieſt poor Waller never ſought,

But where Was Golden Croſſes;

His Mirmidons went [...]nacks, tis That

In all the Owners Loſſes.

6.

The Doctor he has bid Farewell

To Jeſus, and the Court;

And Tony's Tap runs fla [...] and dull,

Makes Catch in hopes of Sport.

Blew Proteſtants can make no work,

Unleſs like Hungary,

They for Religion Joyn the Turk,

For Chriſtian Liberty

Five Years Sham Plots Diſcovered in one True one.

To the Tune of,— I told young Jenny, &c.

NOw Innocent Blood's almoſt forgot,

We have found the Original Ground of the

Now every Moon-blind Rebel may know, Plot

That Providence ſees our Actions below.

NoW Oates for Pegs, may pack up his Awls,

And there inform his Maſter;

To furniſh Rooms, make fire in the Halls

For Company that comes after.

Theſe are not like our Plots of Old,

When Evidence ſwore for Silver and Gold.

There are no Armies under Ground,

No Sha [...] Magazines that ne'r were found,

No Spaniſh Pilgrims, and Black-Bills,

But open profeſs'd Traytors;

Where Perjury ſpares, the Sword it kills,

Theſe are our Saint-like Satyrs.

[Page]

Theſe are the Blades, detected by Laws,

In Contempt of Juſtice decide it with blows

Theſe are the Blood-Hounds of our Age,

That brought our late Monarch upon the Stage,

Yet theſe more Barbarous Bruits of ours,

Would mu [...]ther both King and's Brother,

And [...]ay the Guilt at innocent doors,

And ſtill continue the Murther.

From thence the Sacrifice begins,

To Maſſacre others for their own ſins:

And this has been the Plots ſupport,

Firſt made in the City, then forc't on the Court.

But now the Myſteries brought to light,

True Innocency is Protection,

Surpriſing Rebels dare not fight,

Their Souls are Imperfections.

If they had Butcher'd the Royal Line,

To Murther its Friends they were to Joyn,

The like was never on Record

In the wide Wilderneſs of the World;

To Rob the Kingdom of all that's Good,

And none but Rebels Surviving,

To Lord it o're three Nations in Blood;

Each to be an Oliver ſtriving.

The Saddle is now on the Right [...]orſe,

The Whiggs muſt mount for Tyburn in Courſe.

For theſe can be no falſe Alarms,

We have their Confeſſion the Men and their Arms,

Makes Catch perceive his Harveſt is near

He ſwears if his Horſe do not fail him,

He'll not take a thouſand Pound this year,

For what his Trade may avail him.

On the Throat-cutter of Jack-a-napes-lane.

[Page]

Tune, Hang ſorrow, caſt away care.

1.

THere is an old ſtory

That's much to the glory

Of one who was call'd Sophyrus,

Whoſe Fears may be read,

Though the man be dead,

By any that are deſirous.

2.

This man had a Noſe

(As you may ſuppoſe)

In the middle of his face;

But he cut it off clear,

Like a brave Cavalier,

To get the King's good grace.

3.

The manner is known,

So we'll let that alone:

Yet by the way you muſt note,

Though he ſlaſhed his face

In every place,

He had a great care of his Throat.

4.

Nor will any man dare

This Wight to compare

With an Heroe that I can name;

Who, by cutting his Throat,

Grew a man of great note,

And purchas'd eternal Fame.

5.

Sophyrus did well;

But He doth excel,

If he be but right underſtood:

[Page]For 'tis a plain caſe

As the Noſe on ones Face,

It was done for the Peoples good.

6.

The deſign was brave,

The People to ſave

By letting his own Throat bleed;

But the Fiend that repines

At all good Deſigns,

Did hinder it to ſucceed.

7.

For his hand being up

To ſpil the laſt Drop

Of the Peoples ſaving Blood,

He made him flinch

At the other Inch,

And ſo prevented the Good.

8.

So he uſeth his Throat

For the People to Vote;

Yet ſome are ſo wicked, to hope

This obliging Knife

(Though it then ſpar'd his Life)

Has markt a fair place for the Rope.

9.

Now, whoever bears ſpleen

To the King or the Queen,

Or to James the Duke of York,

He ſhall have my Vote

For cutting his Throat,

Provided he'll perfect the Work.

The Plotting-Cards reviv'd; or, The new Game at Forty-One.

[Page]

Tune, I'll tell thee, Dick, &c.

1.

COme, cut again; the Game's not done,

Though ſtrangely yet the Cards have run,

As if they pack'd had been:

Moſt likely are to loſe, and ſay

They know not what's next best to play,

Such ſhuffling ne'r was ſeen.

2.

Look well (my Maſters) to your hits,

And have about you all your wits,

For high the Play does run;

Three Kingdoms now at ſtake do lie,

And Rooks all hocus-tricks do try,

That ye may be undone.

3.

On Clubs and Spades ſome wholly bett▪

For they the moſt are like to get.

Whilſt Hearts in vain conteſt;

And Diamonds too, (unto their coſt

That have them) ſure are to be loſt,

The blackeſt Cards are beſt.

4.

God bleſs all Kings and Queens, though now

The beſt Coat-Cards, (the Lord knows how)

At this prepoſtrous Game,

Are like all to commanded be,

And trumpt with all their Royalty,

By every Knaviſh Pam—

5.

So Hewſon blind (though he be dead)

Alive was by blind Fortune led,

And ſtill did winning go;

[Page]And ever ſince we find, that He

Sweeps all with his Effigie,

The great Pamphilio.

6.

Nay, Trays and Duces, which were deem'd

The baſest Cards, are now eſteem'd

Prime ones, to win the day:

So that, (you ſee) to gain the Prize,

Poor Kings and Queens you muſt deſpiſe,

And Honours throw away.

7.

Thus the beſt Cards are now the worst,

And what was laſt is become firſt,

No wonder now-a-days:

The Nation topſy turvey lies,

And (as 'twere pleas'd with Contraries)

At loſing Load'em plays.

The Second Part.

1.

THis is like ſome Utopian Game,

Where Servant-Maids controll their Dame,

And Kings are Subjects made;

Felons their Judges do indict,

And He a Traytor is down-right

Who falſly is betray'd!

2.

A Dunce who never took Degrees,

But ſuch as lead to Villainies,

A DOCTOR is moſt ſound;

He who, to furniſh his own wants,

Can ſeize Gold-Croſs, or Silver-Saints,

A JUSTICE is renown'd.

[Page]

3.

Who Horſe to Battle never led,

But has with many Horſes fled

Out of his Neighbours Field,

A CAPTAIN is; and with his Word

Kills more than with his duller Sword

He ever made to yield.

4.

A Villain who can cheat his Lord,

Gets Chains of Gold inſtead of Cord,

And is from Priſon freed:

For Him who ſays he Murder'd has,

A Pardon both for That does paſs,

And all that e'r he did.

5.

Who for foul Crimes and Forgeries

Has worn the Yoak of Pillories,

And has been whipt about;

If he but add new Perjury,

He wipes off paſt Iniquity,

And ſpeaks Truth without doubt.

6.

He that had rather chooſe to die,

Than to redeem his Life with Lie,

Is th'only perjur'd R [...]gue:

And They who damn themſelves to live,

Sure ſigns of their Probation give,

For they're the Saints in vogue.

7.

Then play away, (good Countrey-man)

What hand's the best is now moſt-plain,

And boldly thou may'ſt ſtake:

A Pack of KNAVES together get,

And never doubt to win the Sett,

For They the Voll will make.

A Song upon Information.

[Page]

Tune, Conventicles are grown ſo rief.

1.

INforming of late's a notable Trade;

For he that his Neighbour intends to invade,

May pack him to Tyburn, (no more's to be ſaid)

Such Power hath Information.

Be Good, and be Juſt, and fight for your King,

Or ſtand for your Countreys Honour,

You're ſure by preciſe Information to ſwing,

Such Spells ſhe hath got upon her.

2.

To Six hundred and ſixty, from Forty-one,

She left not a Biſhop or Clergy-man,

But compell'd both Church and State to run,

By the ſtrength of the Non-Conformiſt.

The Dean and Chapter, Scepter and Crown,

(The Lords and Commons ſnarling)

By bleſt Information came tumbling down,

Fair Fruits of an over-long parling.

3.

'Twas This that ſummon'd the Bodk [...]ns all,

The Th [...]mbles and Spoons to the City-hall,

When Saint Hugh to the Babes of Grace did call,

To prop up the Cauſe that was ſinking:

This made the Cobler take the Sword,

The Pedlar and the Weaver;

By the pow'r of the Spirit, and not by the Word,

Made the Tinker wear Cloak and Beaver.

4.

'Tis Information from Valadolid

Makes Jeſuits, Fryars and Monks to bleed,

Occapitates Lords; and what not (indeed)

Doth ſuch damnable Information?

[Page]It Cities burns, and ſticks not to boaſt,

Without any mincing or ſcruple,

Of Forty Thouſand Black-Bills by the Poſt,

Brought in with the Devil's Pupil.

5.

This Imp with her Jealouſies and Fears

Puts all men together by the ears,

Strikes at Religion, and Kingdoms tears,

By Voting againſt the BROTHER.

This makes Abhorrers, makes Lords Proteſt,

They know not why, nor wherefore:

This ſtrikes at Succeſſion, but aims at the reſt;

Pray look about you therefore

6.

This raiſeth Armies in the Air,

Imagining more than you need have to fear;

Keeps Horſe under-ground, and Arms to tear

The Cities and Towns in ſunder.

'Tis this made the Knight to Newark run,

With his Fidus Acates behind him;

Who brought for the Father one more like the Son,

The Devil and Zeal did ſo blind him.

7.

It whips, it ſtrips, it hangs, and draws;

It Pillories alſo without any cauſe,

By falſly Informing the Judges and Laws,

With a trick from Salamanca;

This hurly-burlies all the Town,

Makes Smith and Harris prattle;

Who ſpare neither Caſſock, Cloak, nor Gown,

In their paltry Tittle-tatile.

8.

'Tis Information affrights us all;

By Information we riſe and fall:

[Page]Without Information there's no PLOT at all;

And all is but Information.

That Pickering ſtood in the Park with a Gun,

And Godfrey by Berry was ſtrangl'd;

'Twas by Information ſuch ſtories begun,

Which the Nation ſo much have entangl'd.

A Song on the Popiſh Plot, by a Lady of Quality.

Tune, Packington's Pound

1.

SInce counterfeit [...]lots have 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 turn'd round.

From Pulpit to Pot

They talk'd of a Plot,

Till their Brains were inſlav'd, & each man turn'd Sot;

But let us to Reaſon and Juſtice repair,

And this Popiſh B [...]gbear will fly into Air.

2

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' that credulous Age;

He now is at work

With the Devil and Turk,

Pretending a Plot, under which he doth lurk,

To humble the Mitre, wh [...]le he ſquints at the Crown,

Till fairly and ſquarely he pulls them down.

3.

He had found out an Inſtrument fit for the Devil,

Whoſe mind had been train'd up to all that was evil▪

His Fortune ſunk low, and deteſted by many,

Kick'd out at St. Omers, not pity'd by any:

[Page] Some whiſperers fix'd him

Upon this Deſign,

And with promis'd Reward did him countermine▪

Though his Tale was ill told, it ſerv'd to give fire;

Deſpis'd by the Wiſe, whilſt Fools did admire.

4.

The next that appear'd, was a fool-hardy Knave,

Who'd ply'd the High-ways, and to Vice was a Slave;

Being fed out of Basket, in Priſon forlorn,

No wonder that Money ſhould make him forſworn:

He boldly dares ſwear

What men tremble to hear,

And learns a falſe Leſſon without any Fear;

For when he is out, there's one that's in's place

Relieves his invention, and quickens his pace.

5.

In a Countrey Priſon another was found,

Who had cheated his Lord of One thouſand Pound;

He was freed from his Fetters, to ſwear and inform,

Which very couragiouſly he did perform:

To avoid future ſtrife,

He takes away Life,

To ſave poor Protestants from Popiſh Knife:

Which only has edge to cut a Rogue's ears,

For abuſing the People with needleſs Fears.

6.

Another ſtarts up, and tells a falſe Tale,

Which ſtrait he revok'd, his courage frail:

But, to fortifie one that needeth his Aid,

(Being tempted by Money, which much doth perſuade)

He ſwore he knew all

That contrived the fall

Of one, who that day was ſeen near to White-hall;

Where he by an Officer's powerful breath

More l [...]kely by far received his death.

[Page]

7.

A Gown-man moſt grave, with Fanatical Form,

With his ſcribling wit doth blow up this ſtorm;

For moth-eaten Records he worſhips the Devil,

Being now lodg'd at Court, he muſt become civil.

He hunts all about,

And makes a great Rout,

To find ſome o [...]d Prophecy to help him out;

But his Friend that was hous'd with him at Foxhall,

Being joyn'd with his Maſter, ſtill ſtrengthens 'em all▪

1.

Then comes a crack'd Merchant, with his ſhallow Brain,

Who firſt did lead up this ſtigmatiz'd Train:

He ſince is grown uſeleſs, his Skill being ſmall;

Yet at a dead lift he's ſtill at their call:

He has peſter'd the Preſs,

In ridiculous dreſs,

In this ſcribling Age he could do no leſs:

But to ſo little purpoſe as plainly appears,

With Pen he had as good ſate picking his ears.

9.

To end with a Prayer, as now 'tis my lot,

Confounded be Plotters, with their Popiſh Plot:

God bleſs and preſerve our Gracious Good KING,

That he may ne'r feel the Presbyters ſting;

As they brought his Father

With rage to the Block,

So would they extirpate all the whole Stock:

But with their falſe Plots I hope they will end

At Tyburn, where the Rabble will ſurely attend.

The Whigs lamentable Condition; Or, the Loyalliſts Reſolution.

[Page]

To a pleaſant new Tune.

1.

THe Deel aſſiſts the Plotting Whigs

To carry on their damn'd Intrigues,

And does provide them new ſupplies,

Gin any faus and Raskal dies;

Up ſtarts ſome Bankrupt perjur'd Loon,

Inſtructed by the Poliſh Prince,

How to amuſe th'unthinking Toon,

And make the Bigots leeſe their ſenſe.

2.

This ſquinting and Curmudgeon ſits

Conſulting with his Whiggiſh Chits,

Who treacherouſly with him combine

To root out a [...] the Royal Line:

But Heaven, which has diſclos'd their Plots,

Confound their vain Inventions,

Diſperſe the wretched hai [...]-brain'd Sots,

And croſs their curs'd Intentions.

3.

Whither d'ye hurry Phaeton?

Is't not enough that he's undone

By your perſideous Treachery,

The ſource of au his Infamy?

But, to promote your wretched ends,

Ye make the Lorden a ſtop-gap;

Like Croc [...]diles, ye fawning Friends

Pretendedly mourn his miſ-hap.

4.

The Bearn may ſee how he is feul'd,

Tea late may find that he is gull'd:

Wha [...] then ſhall pity his Eſtate,

That toil'd to be unfortunate?

[Page]He's now a hardy Rebel grown,

And glories in baſe actions;

The ſilly Lad gangs up and down,

To make Feuds and Diſtractions.

5.

Wa [...] to'l the Nations Scabs and Boils,

Ye that delight in Civil Broils,

Wha'd ſet us by the ears again,

Ye Worriers of Loyal men:

[...]'ſe mean the pert blew-apron Fops,

Wha meddle with the State affair,

Leuk to'l your Wives, and mind your Shops,

Whig Gold nor Corniſh ſhan't be May'r.

6.

All Aegypts Plagues ſeize Doctor T.O.

Who did deſign the overthrow

Of Church and State: Have we forgot

'Twas He contriv'd the Popiſh Plot?

Can we forget our Martyr'd Prince,

Whoſe Blood does loud for veng'ance ca [...]l?

Shall we not ſtand in's Son's defence,

'Gainſt Whigs, wha [...] wiſh for his doonfal?

7.

Take courage, pull a [...] Rebels down,

Obey the KING, and guard His Throne;

Commit the reſt to th' prudent care

Of our Tribunes and geud L [...]ird May'r:

As for our Foes the Rebel-Rout,

He timely curb'd the ſtubborn Elves;

Their Villainy he has found out,

And now they're fit to hang themſelves.

The Preſent State of ENGLAND.

[Page]

Tune, It was in the prime of Cucumber time.

JAck Presbyter's up, and hopes at one ſwoop

To ſwallow King, Biſhops, and all [...]a:

The Mitre and Crown muſt both tumble down,

Or the Kingdom, he tells you, will fall [...]a.

Sure 'tis a hard Fate, that to prop up the State,

We muſt pull down the State-Religion:

But the Saints have a new one, more holy & true one,

Compoſed of Fox and Wigeon.

An Engine they've got, call'd a damn'd Popiſh Plot,

Which will bring in a Through-Reformation;

Which, tho't be half Fable, it mads the poor Rable,

And puts out of wits half the Nation.

Thus their work's quickly done for each Mothers Son

That to Church or to King is Loyal,

Shall ſtrait be indicted, or elſe be ſore frighted

To be brought to their f [...]ry Tryal.

Tis no more but pretend he's to Pop'ry a Friend

The Brethren cry loud, he's a Traytor;

And their Evidences bring againſt him pretences,

And all of a Treas' [...]able nature.

Th'Impeachers are ſuch, ſo Hon'rable and Rich,

That no Bribe can to Falſhood invite 'em;

Tho' they contradict themſelves and ev'ry body elſe,

A good luſty Vo [...]e can right 'em.

No matter for blood, their Oaths ſhall ſtand good ▪

[...]n deſpight of all circumſtances:

The City-Cabals ſay they cannot ſwear falſe,

And each Pamphlet their Honour enhances.

[Page]

Who dares to deny but One ſingle Lie

Of the Many they ſwear on their credit,

Muſt down on his knees, is rebuk'd, and pays Fees,

And muſt cry Peccavi he did it.

If any's ſo bold their tricks to unfold,

or offers to prove them Lyars,

Strait up ſteps another, and ſwears for Rogue-brother,

And flings the poor Wretch in the Bryars.

Thus Villains bout Ten, the worſt ſcum of men,

(While the Godly Party maintain 'em

All England do govern, and each ſuch a Sov'reign,

The King muſt not ſpeak again 'em.

Old Noll and Dad Nick have taught 'em the trick

To Make Plots, and then to Reveal 'em:

Thus runs round the Jig of Politick Whig,

Sure Pardon, if they do not conceal 'em.

Then inſpir'd they bring in for ſad men of ſin

Any one that is Honeſt and Loyal:

But if Pardon's deny'd, all flock on Fitz-ſide,

To hector the Mercy Royal.

Thus moſt men for fears dare not for their ears

But Whig and his Rout to ſecond;

Which if they refuſe, they're far worſe than Jews,

And Papiſts or Traytors are reckon'd.

And ev'ry poor Ape who for Changes does gape,

And to be preferr'd by the Party,

To help Good Old Cauſe wide ſtretches his [...]aws,

With loud Lies to ſhew himſelf hearty.

And thoſe Worthies Three, Care, Vile & Langley,

Do publiſh as faſt as they make them:

The being in Print, ſignifies ſomething in't,

And the Rabble for Gospel miſtake them.

[Page]

Mean while Pendent laughs, and at Byter ſcoffs,

And at's hot-headed Zeal does flout-a;

The Coxcomb to ſee thus ſhaking the Tree,

While he's ready to gather the Fruit-a.

Let Papiſts be hang'd, and Presbyters damn'd,

And may goggle-ey'd Traytors periſh,

But let true hearts ſing, Long live Charles our King,

The Church and the State to cheriſh.

Raree Show; Or, The True-Proteſtant-Proceſſion.

Tune, The Northumberland-man.

1.

THis is the Cabal of ſome Prot. Lords,

A forging the turn that not long ſince they had;

Here W—ton ſitteth, and ſearcheth Records,

To find flaws in good Statutes, and varniſh the bad.

2.

This is the Lord Toney that ſlily ſits here,

Who to ſham and contrive has never deny'd;

And rather than th'Cauſe ſhou'd fall thro' his fear,

He'll let out Rebellion by broaching his ſide.

3.

This is popular Perkin that ſmirks & looks gay,

The women extoll the Spark up to the Sky▪

None danceth with ſo great a grace, as they ſay,

Yet ſomebody thinks that he capers too high.

4.

Here flouriſhing E—, the Tongue o'th' Gang,

With Rhetorical Artifice fancies fine things;

Firſt vainly compoſeth a taking Harangue,

Then foſters a Villain in Libelling Kings.

5.

Here's Doctor Informant, that ne'r wou'd ſtick out

To traffique in Oaths, or tell a State-lie;

[Page]Obſerve how he firks all the Jeſuits about,

Firſt blaws on a Beuk, and ſo Papiſts God b'we ye.

6.

Here's Wilmore, that's troubl'd with ſcruples and ſtings,

His Citizens Conſcience is nice and demure,

A Traytor's indicted for Treas'nable things;

But he tells you 'tis falſe, he's a Proteſtant ſure.

7.

Theſe are ſome ſage Citizens that you ſee there,

Who (out of their Zeal all our Rights to maintain,

And to keep out all Slav'ry) have taken a care

To put up in the Streets two Poſts and a Chain.

8.

Theſe are ſome Apprentices ſtill do retain

Some Tenets their Maſters approve and allow;

They come to direct a wiſe Monarch to Reign,

'Stead of ſweeping their Shop, and cleaning of Shoes.

9.

This is the Committee where Grievance [...]s ſcann'd,

Which remonſtrates dangers that threat [...]n the State:

Good ſervice is here by ſuspicion trepann'd,

And Allegiance is reckon'd Malignancy ſtrait.

10.

Here's the Synod of Saints, that will ſometimes refreſh

The failings of Nature with means of their own;

They'll preach you the mortification of Fleſh

With Eyes up to Heav'n, and Breeches let down.

11.

Theſe are the Cabal of the Covenantiers,

That think they maintain the Religion the beſt

By pulling down Churches and their Overſeers,

And routing the Defender of Faith with the reſt.

[Page]

12.

Theſe are the Remains of the Levelling Rump,

That ſtink in the Houſe, and freſh Commons annoy;

And leſt the right James ſhou'd be turn'd up Trump,

They cry out, A Court Card will their gaming deſtroy

13.

That Lumber of Trumpery buzzing abou [...] ▪

Are ſilly Subſcribers that come at firſt daſh,

To make up a large Petitioning Rout

Of Link-boys, and all ſuch True-Proteſtant traſh.

14.

Theſe there are the Hucksters that Treaſon retail,

They'll ſell you a ſheet with a penymorth in't.

That's Courantier Care, that never will fail

To ſcrible, while Langley dares publiſh and print.

15.

That's the Club of a pack of ingenious Friends,

That made Charles a Scotch-Pedlar [...]th Raree Show,

And I hope that our Monarch, to make 'em amends,

Will give them a Yard of St. Johnſtons or two.

The Pot-Companions; Or, Drinking and Smoaking preferr'd before Caballing and Plotting.

Tune, Thus all the day long we're frolick and gay.

1.

COme make a good Toaſt,

and ſtir up the Fire,

And fill the great Tankard

of what we admire:

Then bring in a Paper

of excellent Fogoe,

That we may perfume

the whole houſe with the [...]

[Page]And here let us ſit

Like honeſt brave Fellows,

That neither are Tories

Nor Whigs in an Ale-houſe.

And here let us ſit, &c.

2.

We'll raiſe no diſputes

Of the Church nor the State,

To waken the PLOT,

which has ſlept out its date;

Nor came we to treat

of the Cities great Charter,

But only to drink

to the Sons of the Martyr:

For better it is

to be honeſtly Sotting,

Than live to be hang'd

For Caballing and Plotting.

For better it is, &c.

3.

Since Freedom or Death

is not in our power,

What have we to do

with the Lords in the Tower?

We'll leave them to Juſtice,

let that take its courſe,

And ſet ev'ry Saddle

upon the right Horſe;

Though the Witneſſes fade,

and the Plot's almoſt rotten,

Yet Presbyter-Jack

will ne'r be forgotten.

Though the Witneſses fade, &c.

[Page]

4.

We have nothing to do

with the Feuds of the Nation,

With old Magna Charta,

nor the Aſsociation ▪

Let Shaftsbury fancy

himſelf to be crowning,

Or beg his Quietus,

and venture a Drowning;

Let Black-coat ſwear on,

and raiſe up his ſtory:

That's nothing to us,

let the Saints have their glory.

Let Black-coat ſwear on, &c.

5.

Though the Spaniards were landed,

which Bedlow recounted,

And all the Commiſſions

which Coat gave were mounted;

And little Don John

did lead theſe brave Fellows,

The Devil a foot

would we ſtir from the Ale houſe:

When they have rais'd Armies

by praying and winking,

'Tis we that maintain them

with Smoaking and Drinking▪

When they have rais'd Armies, &c.

6.

Then away to the King,

let the Tankard go round;

May the Plots and the Plotters

each other confound:

To His Highneſs the Duke,

and the Royal Succeſſors,

[Page]And every Member

of Loyal Addreſſers;

To the honeſt Lord Mayor,

and all other old Chriſtians;

But guard us, good Lord,

from theſe whining Philiſtims.

To the honeſt Lord Mayor, &c.

The Bully Whig; Or, The poor Whores Lamentation for the Apprehending Sir Thomas Armſtrong.

Tune, Ah! Cruel bloody Fate! &c.

1.

AH! Cruel bloody Tom!

What could'ſt thou hope for more,

Than to receive the Doom

Of all thy Crimes before?

For all thy bold Conſpiracies

Thy Head muſt pay the ſcore;

Thy Cheats and Lies,

Thy Box and Dice,

Will ſerve thy turn no more.

2.

[...]ngrateful thankleſs Wretch!

How could'ſt thou hope in vain

[...]out the reach of Ketch)

Thy Treaſons to maintain?

For Murders long ſince done and paſt,

Thou Pardons haſt had ſtore,

And yet would'ſt ſtill

Stab on, and kill,

As if thou hop'dſt for more.

3.

Yet Tom, e'r he would ſtarve,

More Blood reſolv'd to' [...]e ſpilt;

[Page]Thy flight did only ſerve

To juſtifie thy Guilt:

While They whoſe harmleſs Innocence

Submit to Chains at home,

Are each day freed,

While Traytors bleed,

And ſuffer in their room.

4.

When Whigs a PLOT did Vote,

What Peer from Juſtice fled?

In the FANATICK PLOT

Tom durſt not ſhew his Head.

Now Sacred Juſtice rules above,

The Guiltleſs are ſet free,

And the Napper's napt,

And Clapper clapt,

In his CONSPIRACY.

5.

Like Cain, thou hadſt a Mark

Of Murder on thy Brow;

Remote, and in the dark,

Black Guilt did ſtill purſue;

Nor England, Holland France, or Spain;

The Traytor can defend;

He will be found

In Fetters bound,

To pay for't in the end.

6.

Tom might about the Town

Have bully'd, huff'd and roar'd,

By every Venus known,

Been for a Ma [...]s ador'd:

By friendly Pimping, and falſe Dice,

Thou might'ſt have longer liv'd,

[Page]Hector'd and ſhamm'd,

And ſwore and gam'd,

Hadſt thou no Plots contriv'd.

7

Tom once was Cock-a-hoop

Of all the Huffs in Town;

But now his Pride muſt ſtoop,

His Courage is pull'd down:

So long his Spurs are grown, poor Tom

Can neither fly nor fight;

Ah Cruel Fate!

That at this rate

The 'Squire ſhould foil the Knight!

8▪

But now no remedy,

It being his juſt Reward;

In his own Trap, you ſee,

The [...]ygre is enſnar'd:

So may all Traytors fare, till all

Who for their Guilt did fly,

With Bully Tom

By timely Doom,

Like Him, unpity'd die.

The Jealous Ladies Complaint.

[Page]

To an Excellent New Tune.

1.

TEll me no more,

There muſt be ſomething in't;

Think what you ſwore

When firſt you did begin't,

That n [...]n [...] but I

Could e [...]r your heart ſuffice;

And my Eyes and my Thighs,

How your mind it did ſurprize:

But now, You Bitch, you look ſo leam,

You damn'd confounded ſtinking Quean,

Are all the words that I can gain

For my great pain.

2.

Can you forget

The [...]oys you did delight in,

And thoſe great Pleaſures

You us [...]d to ſpend the night in?

When with ſweet Raptures

So cloſe you did embrace▪

And your Love us'd to move

In another pretty place;

But now you turn away your head,

And there you lie as tho' you're dead,

And all the joys I had in Bed

Are gone and fled.

ANAGRAM and ACROSTICK On the Salamanca-Sizer.

[Page]

Ana• TITUS OATS, , and • JUST A SOT. gram.

WHen Adam proper Names on Beaſts conferr'd,

The Salamanca-Doctor was i'th' Herd;

The Midwife, ſhe fore-ſaw 'twou'd prove a Dunce,

So gave him Name and Character at once:

Which but unfold, and joyn again with Art,

Both Sot and Drunkard lurk in ev'ry part;

Nor in his Temper thus alone betray'd,

'Tis on his Face in Ruby Signs diſplay'd.

Well may we doubt the Goſpel of that PLOT,

Whoſe chiefeſt Evidence is JUST A SOT.

An ACROSTICK

Traytor to God, damn'd Source of Blaſphemy,

Inſect of Hell, grand Maſs of Perjury;

Thorough-pac'd Villain, ſecond unto none,

Ʋnleſs to Judas, (if by Him out-done;)

Satans black Agent, Hells Monopoly

Of all that's called Sin and Villainy;

A curſed Parent of an Hell-bred Brood,

Teacher of Lies, Spiller of guiltleſs Blood;

Englands dark Cloud, eclipſing all her Glory;

Satans Delight, and Hells Repoſitory.

FINIS.

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Information about this book

Title statement

A choice collection of 120 loyal songs, all of them written since the two late plots, (viz.) the horrid Salamanca Plot in 1678, and the fanatical conspiracy in 1683. Intermixt with some new love songs with a table to find every song to which is added, an anagram, and an accrostick on the Salamanca doctor

Thompson, Nathaniel, d. 1687.

Edition statement

1684

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2007-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A62418

ID [STC]

Wing T1004

ID [STC]

ESTC R221730

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99832996

ID [PROQUEST]

99832996

ID [VID]

37471

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A62418)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 37471)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 2156:5)

Source

— A choice collection of 120 loyal songs, all of them written since the two late plots, (viz.) the horrid Salamanca Plot in 1678, and the fanatical conspiracy in 1683. Intermixt with some new love songs with a table to find every song to which is added, an anagram, and an accrostick on the Salamanca doctor, Thompson, Nathaniel, d. 1687..

Extent

[12], 264 p.

Printed by N.T. at the entrance into the Old Spring Garden near Charing-Cross,. London :: 1684.. (Preface signed: N. T., i.e. Nathaniel Thompson.) (With two preliminary contents leaves and a preliminary advertisement leaf.) (Stained, torn and cropped, with some loss of print.) (Reproduction of the original in the Bodleian Library.)

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