The DOWNFAL OF THE WHIGGS: Or, Their Lamentation for Fear of A Loyal Parliament.
To the Tune of, Patrick Flemmen
he was a Valiant Souldier.
I.
DId'st ever see the like, dear Brother,
Our Saints they are falling all together?
The
Presbyter, 'Pendant, and
Quaker,
We've neither
Hopes in the House, nor
Speaker!
II.
The
Torys Drink to the Confusion
Of our Damn'd Members for the
Exclusion;
And Curses our
Assosiation,
Z—s, let us run quite out of the Nation.
III.
How durst they make
L'Estrange a
Member!
Our Mortal Foe, and bold Offender?
Whom our late
Parli'ment Attempted,
They'd Hang'd him if he had not prevented.
IV.
At
VVestminster under our Noses,
Our numerous
VVhiggs o're Powers Opposes,
And by two Thousand
Votes Out-pol'd Us,
The Devil I am sure, hath forsook or sold Us!
V.
Shall the Saints who used to have the Glories,
To Vote and Spew out all the
Torys,
The King no Money must have, they agreed on't
Unless he'l pawn his
Crown and
Head on't!
VI.
This
Parli'ment will give us Caution
As formerly, to mind ev'ry Motion;
But if th'
Old Cause should be Over-ruled,
They must expect by the
Rout for to be Schooled.
VII.
York and
Durham, Oxford, Cambridge,
Glocester, VVinchester, with Advantage;
Nay, every County and Corporation,
And the Devil a Word of
Arbitration.
VIII.
Dangerfield in the Name of
Monmouth,
Used to Knight Men, now's in the Dungeon:
Him we sav'd to save
Oats our Father,
But now we fear they'l Hang both together.
IX.
Now to save our Saints from Disasters,
We'l Snugg in the Bosoms of our Sisters.
If the
Parli'ment send for to Gail us,
Their Smocks our Surplis, none shall Unvail us.
FINIS.
Printed for J. Dean, in Cranborn-Street, over-against Newport-House in Leicester-Fields.