The Second Part to the same Tune. Or, The Letanie continued. Which may be sung or said, Morning or Evening, before or after Supper.
FRom a painted Ladie with black patches,
From
Parliament-men, and their lame dispatches,
From midnight-hunting in another mans Berry,
From going over to
Callis in a VVherry,
And from the Black Rod where seven Nobles be,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From a proud VVoodcock, and a peevish wife,
From a pointlesse Needle, and a broken knife,
From lying along in a
Ladies Lapp,
Like a great Fool that longs for Papp,
And from the fruit of the Three▪cornerd Tree,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From all Capon-eating holy Coblers,
From illuminated mysticall Con-joblers,
From
Presbyters, and
Independent Traytors,
And all such Creatures called
Agitators,
From these, the Devil, and worse, if worse may be,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From a conspiracy of wicked Knaves,
A knot of Villains, and a crew of Slaves,
From laying Plots for to abuse a Friend,
From working humors to a wicked end:
And from the place where Wolves and Foxes be,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From
Raviliac's, Catalines, and
Joyces,
From factious brothers sniveling voyces,
From an
Ireton or a
Crumwell,
Such blessed Saints that love a Bum-well,
And from all Subiects that would Soveraignes be,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From rusty Bacon and ill rosted Eeles,
From a madding wit that runs on wheels,
From a vapring humour and a beetle head,
A smoaky chimney and a lowzie bed,
A blow upon the elbow and the knee,
From each of these goodnesse deliver me.
From setting Vertue at too lowe a price,
From loosing too much coyne at Cards and Dice,
From Suretiship, and an emptie purse,
From any thing, that may be tearmed worse:
From all such ill wherein no good can be,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From Cockoldry, and a Coward City,
From Harpyes claws, and from a Committee;
From Satans Imps, all Sequestrators,
Flesh-eating Canibals, State Regraters:
From all such Theeves and Rogues my prayer shall be,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From
Morbus Gallicus, and
Spanish Figs,
From a
Welch Hubbub, and from
Scottish Jigs,
From wandring Preachers before they be sent,
And from a seven-yeers Parliament,
That never was, nor is, nor good will be,
From each of these Vertue deliver me.
From senior sympleton the good Lord
Gray,
From that State-Fox politick the Lord
Say,
VVhose Nose like a Pick-ax beats down our Churches,
From
Nath: his Sons fierce sieges, and false lurches,
From making use of such as these men be,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From
Philip the fool, that swore he'd be
Independent,
From
Piercy the puppy, or Protector transcendent:
From the Lord
Wharton that valiant Moppet,
Tom Thum in an Oven, and he in a Saw-pit.
From such as Apes, and Owls, and Asses be,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From
Billy Brereton that Martial tool,
That looks as sitting upon a close stool,
From Collonel
Martyn that peticoat-diver,
And a chip o'th'same block, old
Herefords VVeaver:
From Sir
John Pots I'le pray, yes verily,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
From the highly promoted Mr.
Pury,
Of a poore VVeaver to be a State-Fury,
From
Marshall, and
Burges, those
Geneva Buls,
From
Cawdry, and
Calamy such spiritall Guls,
From all such holy VVeathercocks as they be,
Vertue and goodnesse still deliver me.
A Hymne to be sung after Supper.
FRom all such as purses cut,
From a filthy dirtie slut,
From another Civill VVar,
From Creatures that Committees are,
From a base high-minded Clown,
Ftom driving Soveraignes from their own.
From men with Treason tainted,
From women which are painted,
From all far fetcht new fangles,
From him that ever wrangles,
From rotten cheese, and addle eggs,
From broken shins, and gouty leggs,
From Bugbears, and broken glasses,,
From
Romes Pardons, Buls and Masses,
From the breath that blows behinde,
From a holy brothers long winde,
From private gain by publick losse,
From coming home by weeping-crosse,
From pulling down His Royall Grace,
And setting Peasants in his place:
From all these, I say agen,
Goodnesse deliver me. Amen.
FINIS.