A Song upon the RANDIZVOUS ON Hounsley-Heath, With a Paralel of the Destruction of our English Turks in the West, and the Mahomitans in Hungary: How the Christian Army, Compos'd of Forty Thousand Men, took New-Hassel, relieved Grand, Defeated the Turks Army of Sixty Thousand Men in two days time.

To the Tune, Hark, Hark The Thundring Cannons Roar, &c.

This may be Printed, R. L. S.

OUR Comet or the Blazing-Star,
At Staffords Death was seen so far;
It plainly poynted out this year,
'Gainst Whiggish Calculation.
This Year which Gadberry Foretold
That English Mines should turn to Gold.
Great Princes shall their Empires hold,
By Christians preservation.
Five Years agone, few thought to see,
On Hounsley-Heath Great James to be;
Balance of Christian Princis he,
All Europes Dread and Wonder.
A Handfull of his Army there,
Cut down the Rebels in each Shire;
To Assist him in the Western-War,
Great Jove threw down his Thunder.
In Hounsley-Heath, both Foot and Horse,
With Conquering Eyes resembling Mars;
With glittering Armour, Gold as Dross,
Shone bright on every Souldier:
All Amorous Ladies that were there,
To the Commanders in despair;
None bow'd, without a wishfull tear,
In Love was all Behoulders.
All night the Ladies vow'd to Dream
Of nothing but those Warlike-Men,
Monmouth was but a fool to them,
For all his soft Debauches.
Each Souldier like Adonis gaines,
Their trembling hearts, and smothered flames;
Achillis conquered Countrey-dames,
But these were all in Coaches.
The Morning was clos'd up with Clouds,
The Herds and She [...]p, for shelter crouds;
When James appeared, these threatning Shrouds
Dispers'd, and Phebus Shined,
And darts his Beams upon the Plain,
Then Florish'd all the dazling Train;
Both Holland, Flanders, France and Spain,
To James the Lawrel Signed.
To Accomplish these our glorious Days,
The Christian Arms beyond the Seas;
Victorious Harmony to please
Our King, with Conquest sounding.
With Horse and Foot, the Gun nnd Drum,
And Christian Shouts they Run they Run,
Like our west-Country Turks at home,
In Huugary they're Confounded.
Lorrain with Forty Thousand men,
Newhasel took, relieved Gran,
I'th' Face of Sixty Thousand Men,
Cut these down at his leisure.
In two days time he did Controal,
With Conduct bright, and Warlike Soul,
Without the help of French or Pole,
He Conquers at his pleasure.
This Year hath crusht the Serpents head,
The Turks cut off, the Whigs are dead;
Some Jayl'd, some hang'd, the rest run mad;
Because the Turks are routed.
While Christian Souldiers, daring Boys,
Drinks the Kings Health, themselves enjoys,
All dangerous Consequence destroys,
No Kingdom? Safe without it.

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

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