UPON TITVS:
To the Tune of,
Hail to the Mirtle Shade.
ALL Hail to the Chief of the Post,
To
Titus the Saint of the Town,
Titus who vainly doth boast
Of a
Salamanca Gown:
Titus, who saw the World round,
From his Tower at
Valladolid,
From Mounsieur
Le Chese the Seas o're,
To the
White Horse Tavern Deed.
Hail
Titus at
Watton in
May,
And
Titus at
Islington,
Titus, the self same day
Both here and there again:
Titus, that never swore truth in the Court,
His Plot for to maintain;
Nor ne're could be positive for't,
When call'd to the Test again.
Then
Titus was meekest of all,
When never a penny in's Purse,
He oft upon
Pickering did call,
His Charity to disburse.
But when he made false most damnable Oaths,
And lying no Sin,
Then
Titus was one of those,
Whom the Devil had entred in.
Titus, the Frowns of Heaven,
And
Titus a Plague upon Earth:
Titus ne're to be forgiven,
But curs'd in his fatal Birth:
Titus the Scourge and bane of the Poor,
And Just Man too—
O
Titus thou Son of a W—
What (a Plague!) dost thou mean to do.
FINIS.