L—GLEY C—S His Lamentation in New-Gate; Who lies there in danger of his Ears for Printing and Publishing Sedition and Treason, for this Five Years last past. A SONG.
[...]
I.
COME Whigs out of fashion, of me take compassion,
my Ears are in danger, my case may be yours;
Long, long have I reigned disturbing the Nation,
now, now am made Captive to the higher Powers:
With Pacquet & Pamphlets, abus'd
Church &
Chaplets,
With
C—s Damn'd Courants did abuse the
King so,
That none can defend us, till
Tyburn befriend us,
and send us a Hunting for
Tapskie below.
II.
The loss of our Charter, and
Colledge the Martyr,
his Flayls are all seiz'd, and our Arms made a prey;
We have lost
Ignoramus, both
Jew, Turk, and
Tartar,
no Plots nor Caballs to recover the Day:
Since
Tony left squinting, our Cause has been sinking,
and our Party for
Tyburn advancing you know;
There's none can defend us, till
Tyburn befriend us,
and send us a Hunting for
Essex below.
III.
The Law for a Livery, will put me i'th Pillory,
a damn'd hard Wooden Ruff for a Saint of the Cause;
Had a Tory my place, I wou'd flear and look merrily,
with hardened Brick-batts I'de pelt him with blows.
When my Head peepeth thorough, the
Tories will
hollow,
at poor L—gley C—is
cry O Raree Show;
Now none will defend us, till
Tyburn befriend us,
and send us a Hunting for
Russel below.
IV.
Poor
Colly was Whipt too, for stretching an oath or so,
and Damn'd
Tory Rutland, too hard for us all;
These dayly misfortunes will all our Designs undoe,
would his
Founain-Tavern wou'd sink, burn, or fall.
But alas I am Gailed, and must not be bailed,
as we serv'd the Papists, must we be serv'd so?
There's none will defend us, till
Ketch does befriend us,
and send us a Hunting for
Walcot below.
V.
Wou'd I were with
Patience, I'de keep in his Stations,
and save both my Ears, for the Doctor may want,
I fear they'l be crapt if I live till next Sessions,
then
Prance for his Swearing, may sweat and look blank,
But after a Coller, oft cometh a Halter,
my Neck like my Ears are in danger, you know,
There's none can defend us, till
Ketch doth befriend us,
and send us a Hunting for
Sidney below.
VI.
Poor
A—ld is Pounded, for Lying Confounded,
by
Wooster, which he did most basely defame:
Poor
Giles he was Pillar'd, 'cause
A—ld was wounded,
tho' by his own hands, Sir, in
Jack-an-Apes-Lane;
Now
Giles he is Bailed, and
A—ld is Goaled,
there may lie and Rot too, for ought that we know:
There's none will defend us, till
Ketch doth befriend us,
and send us all head-long toth' Old
Rump below.
VII.
Mowbery and
Balderen, Swore more like Fiends, then men,
they both have been perjur'd ten thousand times o're:
They had but one Wife, and she still lay between them,
they being our Saints, tho' she cou'd be no Whore;
Dangerfield Swore too, all sorts of Oaths, black and blew,
tho' he had been Carted, and Pillar'd before,
Yet they still escaped, tho' worse no Hell raked,
Then why may not
I, that can Rebel no more?
VIII.
Yet that fortunate Hour, they got out of the Tower,
both
Wildman and
Trenchard. Old
Charlton and all:
I may find Friends too, tho'
Jefferies lookt sower,
and Pardon perhaps, when I come to
White-hall;
Guineys five Thousand too, (for Printing of Treason) due,
like some for Ploting; a kind Recompence;
While others for Loyalty, in the Goal dayly Dye,
I'le into the Country, and live like a Prince.