EBBA 20901
Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The Jesuits Lamentation;
OR,
The Downfall of The Whore of BABYL[ON]
To the Tune of, Russels Farewell.
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WHat damn'd confounded fate is this
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Has check'd our hopeful Cause,
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Nor would Dispensing Pow'r do:
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Confound those Penal Laws.
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Those Props and Friends to Heresie
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That raise their Strumpet high;
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And all in spight of Romes fair Charms
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Our brighter Spouse defie.
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Or those who they, their Bishops call,
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Had long e're this been sent
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Into the Mansions of the Deep,
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It was the Wise Intent
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Of our Indulgent Fathers, who
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Did in the Vinyard sweat:
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Nay HELL to their Assistance call'd
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To hedge in their Old Debt.
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The Abbey-Lands, from us purloyn'd,
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Which is our due Entail,
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Tho all Ignatian Arts we us'd,
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It seems we can't prevail.
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Our Church [?] Trappins drest,
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And with Delusions deckt,
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Is much admir'd in Foreign Parts,
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But here gains no Respect.
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A Curse upon that Monarch's Pride
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That first our Church declin'd,
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And likewise on that cunning Rat
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Who Penal Laws design'd.
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Now we are basely forc'd to sneak
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That held our Heads so high,
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And all the Refuge that we have
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Is to For-swear and Lie.
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Our Priests are gone that Fate to shun
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Which hover'd or're their Heads;
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Their Relicks they demolisht all,
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And wisely burnt their Beads.
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But these that here are stopt behind
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May swing for all the rest,
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Tho had they all got quite away
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It would have spoil'd the Jest.
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Then let us mourn these Father's Fates
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Which Ketch (that bloody Cur)
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Begins the deadly round again,
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Nor can the Fates demur.
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For in the Popish Plot we saw
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Our Saints no Aid could lend,
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No Miracles their Lives could save,
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Or these poor Souls befriend.
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Yet we are sure they Martyrs dy'd
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For Romes Beloved Cause,
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To Satisfie the Bloody Thirst
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Of their damn'd Penal Laws.
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Those Laws which do our Pope run down
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And makes our Priests to flie,
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And brings down low the Tripple Crown
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Which once was mounted high.
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London, Printed and Sold by J. Wallis[,]
in White-Friars.
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