An Excellent New
SONG
Fitted for the Times.
Tune of, I met with a Jovial Beggar.
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LEt England now with me
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Rejoice this day to see
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From Popery all set free;
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And joyn with one consent
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To chuse a Parliament
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Unto our own hearts consent,
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Which shall decide the case,
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and establish all old Law,
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In spight of they who shall say nay,
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for Popery stands in awe.
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It was God's blessed will,
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The Scripture to fulfill,
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Though sore against their will;
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Had not brave Orange come,
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We had been quite undone,
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And e're this had had our doom:
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But now we'l hold up our heads,
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let Papists throw away their Beads;
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And all Priests with their spight we'l banish quite
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& flourish most brave in our trades.
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Brave Essex in the Tower,
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Was murdered in an hour
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By Jesuits plots and power;
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But when the truth is known,
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And by Parliament open shown,
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The right Dog shall pick the bone:
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For Tyrconnel that Ruffian great,
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that stands out against Church & State,
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In conclusion of all shall have a downfal,
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or Tyburn shall play his fate.
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Since Irish Rebellion first,
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That Talbot has been accurst,
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For the Protestants he did roast:
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And now he stands in defence
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Of brave Orange and Protestants,
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And gathers all the Kings Rents:
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But let him have his sway,
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for every Devil has his day,
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But when his Card's out, he shall have the rout
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in spight of who shall say nay.
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For great force in Ireland,
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As I do understand,
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He hath raised and will not disband;
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Saying in his own pretence,
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He stands in the Kings defence,
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But the Devil knows from whence:
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For from Plow came all his men,
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But ne'r shall return agen,
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For we'l pull off their boots, & cut 'em off by the roots,
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then let Protestants say Amen.
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For as I do understand,
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They aimed at Churches Land,
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And all Protestants did disband:
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They were come to be so high flown,
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That they got on the Throne,
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Crying out that the day was their own
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But now in our prime we'l rejoice,
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and sing with a changeable voice,
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For when we go to't, we'l kill horse & foot,
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for fear lest the Nits should turn Lice.
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Now Protestants eyes are ope,
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And Popery has had its scope,
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So their next turn will be the Rope,
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For Tyburn is waiting still
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Some of their blood to spill,
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Their old Roguery to fulfill:
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For they have run out their race,
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and now to their soul disgrace.
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Their Rogueries known, and will be show[n]
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when Parliament takes its place.
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