A NEW SONG, ON THE Strange and Wonderful GROANING BOARD.
I.
WHat Fate inspired thee with Groans,
To fill
Phanatick Brains?
What is't thou sadly thus bemoans,
In thy Prophetick Strains?
II.
Art thou the Ghost of
William Pryn,
Or some Old Politician?
Who long tormented for his Sin,
Laments his sad Condition?
III.
Or must we now believe in thee,
Th' Old Cheat Transmigration?
And that thou now art come to be
A Call to Reformation?
IV.
The giddy Vulgar to thee run,
Amaz'd with Fear and Wonder;
Some dare affirm, that hear thee groan,
Thy Noise is petty Thunder.
V.
One says and Swears, you do foretell
A Change in Church and State;
Another says, you like not well
Your Master
Stephens Fate.
VI.
Some say, you Groan much like a
Whigg,
Or rather like a
Ranter;
Some say as loud, and full as big
As
Conventicle Canter.
VII.
Some say, you do Petition,
And think you represent
The Woe, and sad Condition
Of Old
Rump Parliament.
VIII.
The wisest say, you are a Cheat;
Another Politician
Say's, 'tis a Mistery as great
And true, as
Hatfield Vision.
IX.
Some say, 'tis a
New Evidence,
Or Witness of the
Plot;
And can Discover many things,
Which are the Lord knows what.
X.
And least you should the
Plot Disgrace,
For wanting of a Name,
Narrative Board henceforth we'll place
In Registers of
Fame.