A NEW SONG.
To the Tune of Robin Goodfellow.
THough S—s cleared by
The Cunning Ignoramus Sway:
He guilty stands of Treachery
That does not Heavens decrees obey,
Kings are Elected,
Never rejected,
But by the Heavenly pow'rs above;
Then pray you why
Should little An—
Then have a hand in a Kings remove.
II.
He is so mad, I wonder much,
That's going to his Grave on Crutch,
That Knows the Laws, some Princes draws
Amongst the Whiggs, to The Good Old Cause.
His praises aloud
Are resounded by the Croud,
Makes the little Pigmy strut and stare;
Then pray you why
May not little An—
Once more wear his Loyalty thred bare.
III.
His Policy must greater be,
Ere he attains his Zealous ends;
Although he wheadles the City Beagles,
And such poor Mechanick Friends,
They will turn as fast
Honest men at the last
As they before turn'd fools and Knaves;
Then pray you why
May not little An—
Once more his Turn-coat honor save.
IV.
Must we be led in Misery
By the blind that can but will not see;
Their frantick brains brought into th' wain
Those Royal Stars of Charlemain;
And if not watcht,
Or by Ty— Catcht,
Will strive to do it once again;
Then pray you why
May not little An—
Be the bearer up of that fine Train.
V.
Might they have their wills, what would they make
Of this small gruntling groaning Ape,
A God they cannot, a King they shall not:
An Idol their zealous concerns may not,
No, but they would,
If that they could
Set up him a second Cromwell soon;
Then pray you why
May not little An—
For once be made the man i'th' Moon.
VI.
This changeing Imp is now become
Our Loyal Cities only grace,
The Devil ne're made sike another Loon
To aim before at a Royal place,
Nothing but Coo—
M [...]st be [...]hei [...] [...]oope [...],
On Ashl [...] not [...]n H [...]ven, th [...]y call
Then p [...]y you why
May not little An—
Once in a Chair of State Look Tall.
VII.
But if the Law, as once before,
Was of the Tyrant Sword in Awe:
Little Jack a Dandy that never yet swore,
For safety would to a Monarch draw,
He would leave the City,
Yes, and Committee;
To the King he would for mercy haste;
Then pray you why
Should little An—
Any more idle-time in his Cabals waste
VIII.
To Jealousie now more are given
Than Antient Letchers, wise and grave:
This cunning Fox, though he be Poxt,
His policy will honor save.
He scorns for to rail,
Though a Cla [...] sieze his Tail
At any thing of woman Kind;
Then pray you why
May not little An—
With Whor— be both lame and blind.
IX.
But if he said the Whore was honest
That betray'd him in his Youth,
The zealous all, both great and small,
Woud all believe it for a truth,
Bear him to Wallbrook Cross,
And Set him on the Horse,
Dismount the Image of your King;
Then pray you why
May not little An—
Look as like as he can to sike a Thing.
X.
Then on your Knees, most reverently,
Fall down and worship the Molten Calf:
Or take him and han— him decently,
For that's the better way by half,
Then all may see
[...]ur [...] Policy [...]e
Brought to [...] [...]ight de [...]e [...]ed en [...]
Then pray you why
May not little An—
Shake hands at T—hill with his friends.
XI.
Some old men doubtless there are
Of women mad past all compare:
This Lustful Ram, we need not doubt,
Although he is pincht with the Gout,
Will sit in State,
Frigg into debate
The factious people all he can;
Then pray you why
May not little An—
Or Wheadled M— lead the Van.
XII.
No place within the Earthly Ball,
Besides this Kingdom giveth birth
To men so vile, as would beguile
Their Country, lay their Kings in Earth
Before they are grown,
Scarce Set upon a Throne,
They are degraded and cast down;
Then pray you why
May not little An—
Be seen like a Mouse in an Ermin Gown.
XIII.
When they are well they cannot keep so,
All the Universe can tell,
Their zealous Piety makes them weep so,
They are not afraid to rule in Hell:
Give them the Scepter,
Drunk with a Lector,
Tey sell both Kings and Souls for Gold;
Then pray you why
May not little An—
With a Second Monarch now make bold.
LONDON, Printed for C. Tebroc, Anno Dom. 1682.