RUMP RAMPANT, OR THE Sweet Old Cause in sippits: Set out by Sir T. A. Perfumer to his late Highnesse.
To the Tune of, Last Parliament sat as snugg as a Cat.
IN the name of the fiend, what the Rump up agin,
The Delk, and the good old cause,
If they settle agin, which to think were a sin,
Good-night to Religion and Laws.
First Tithes must go down like a sprig of the Crown,
Although J. Presbiter grumble;
Already they tell's our Lead and our Bells
They'l sell, next our Churches must tumble.
This poor
English Nation, by this Generation
Hath been grieved 11. years and more,
But in that season, and not without reason,
They ha'thrice been turnd out of door.
Which they please to call force, yet themselves can do worse,
For this Piercel of a House
Dare keep out of door, thrice as many more,
And value the Law not a Louse.
First by Owl-light they met, and by that light they set,
The reason of it mark,
Their acts and the light, do differ quite,
Their deeds do best with the dark.
Esquire
Lenthall had swore, he'd sit there no more,
Unlesse in with Oxen they drew him,
That he once might speak true, they pick'd him out two,
Sent
Pembrook and
Salisbury to him.
When these Gamsters were pack'd, the first gracious act
Was for pence for their friends of the Army,
Who for any side fight, except't be the right;
Sixscore thousand a month won't harm ye.
Yet many there be, say the House is not free,
When I am sure of that,
T'one another they are so free, that the Nation do see,
Their too free for us to be fat.
Religion they wav'd, now they had us enslav'd
And got us sure in their Claw,
They puld of their mask, and set us our task,
Which is next to make Brick without Straw.
The next act they made, was for helping of Trade,
So they settled again the Excise,
Which the City must pay, for ever and aye,
Yet might have chose had they been wise.
To pull down their K. their plate they could bring,
And other precious things,
So that
Segwick and
Peters, were no small getters
By their bodkins, thimbles and rings.
But when for the good of the Nation 'twas stood
Half ruined and forlorne,
Though't lay in their power, to redeem't in an hour,
Not a Citizen put out his horn.
They had manacled their hands, with Kings & Bishops Lands,
And ruin'd the whole Nation,
So that no body cares, though they and their heirs,
Be Cornute to the third generation.
May their wives on them frown, but laugh and lie down,
To any one else turn up Trump,
To mend the breed, as I think there is need
Be rid like their men by the Rump.
And may these wise Sophees, pay again for their Trophees,
For I hope the Parliament means
(Now they ha' been at the costs, to set up the posts)
To make them pay well for the Chains.
THE RUMP