The Jesuits Exaltation,
OR, A Preparation for a turn at Tyburn.
Tune is, Hey Boys up go we. Or, Russel's Farewell.
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I Walking near a Prison a Wall,
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where Jesuits did lye,
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I heard them to St. Bridget call,
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to help their Misery:
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Saying, with speed now intercede,
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poor Jesuits to free,
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Or Holbourn-Hill with Crowds they'd fill,
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while hey Boys up go we.
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Ah! what's become of all our Creede,
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and [Mass the Antick Song]:
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Our [sweet Religious strings of Beeds]
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are [turn'd to Fetters strong:]
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And Father Peter he is fled,
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a woful sight to see;
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When some [are shorter by the Head,]
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then hey Boys up go we.
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Some they are fled to Rome [we find,]
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while here we [fret and foam,]
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As being [left in Tears behind,]
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[to end the Dance at home:]
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To [Tyburn we must take our way,]
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[to view that Crabbed Tree,]
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And [when we have no more to say,]
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[then hey boys up go we.]
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The very Lads of London Town,
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they did a Rocket make,
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And pull'd our Idol Pictures down,
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then burn'd 'um at the Stake,
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Where M[ary] did her Hereticks,
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in Smith-field-Rounds we see;
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I' Faith we did not like their Tricks,
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then hey boys up go we.
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What Sumptuous Chappels did we build,
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[adorn'd with] Curious Paint
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And was with Nuns and Fryers fill'd,
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a praying to each Saint:
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But this at last is come to nought,
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we're [ty'd from Liberty,]
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Till we may be to Justice brought,
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then hey boys up go we.
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Tho' Hereticks they have deviz'd
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to bring us to our doom,
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Yet we shall all [be Cannoniz'd]
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among the Saints of Rome,
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Which does much Joy and Comfort bring,
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that glorious sight to see,
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And when we [have the] Hempen string,
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then hey boys [up g]o we.
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Our Masses they [are out of date,]
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[some says we we were too bold;]
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We [did run on at such a rate,]
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[which was too hot or cold;]
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And therefore we are overthrown,
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as all may plainly see,
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Now when the Gallows claims its own,
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then hey boys up go we.
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To New-gate Goal we did repair,
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rude Ruffins to Convert,
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And shewing of our Christian care,
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went with the Tyburn Cart;
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But little thought to see this day,
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a woful Destiny,
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For we must pass the self same way,
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then hey boys up go we.
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Now dearest Friends of Holy Church,
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we ne'er shall see you more;
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Why did you leave us in the lurch,
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[to pay] the [good] old score?
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Our [Bodies must] become a pledge,
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for former Villany,
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And when we do ride in the Sledge,
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then hey boys up go we.
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[To sweet St. Francis] let us pray,
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to bring [us straight] to Glory,
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A[nd that we may not] lye one day
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[nor night in Purgatory];
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Tho' we with Grief our hands may ring,
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[under the Treble Tree,]
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To Heaven we shall in a string,
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then hey boys up go we.
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