The Royal HEALTH.
To the Tune of, Hark how the thundring Canons roar, etc.
Written by THOMAS SIBLEY, Gent.
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I.
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LOyal Souls, drink off your Wine,
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Whilst the Popish Crew repine,
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We will all our Voices join,
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With loudest Acclamation.
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Let each Soul drink off his Glass;
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None shall let a Brimer pass:
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No more Idols, no more Mass,
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To vex and plague the Nation.
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II.
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We that Loyal are will sing,
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Long live William our great King;
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May he be blest in every thing,
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May all his Joys grow double.
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No Grief invade his Royal Breast,
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Nor with Sorrow be oppress'd.
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May he in all things still be bless'd,
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Both void of Care and Trouble.
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III.
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He has well deserv'd a Crown,
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That laid his Life and Fortune down
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To save our Lives expos'd his own,
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Unto the greatest Danger.
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He ventur'd all to see us free,
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From Romes cruel Tyranny:
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Yet this all was done, you see,
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By this Heroick Stranger.
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IV.
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His Royal Consort, Heavens bless,
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With everlasting Happiness,
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Whilst we all our Joys Express,
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In drinking off Canary:
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Let briming Bouls go quickly about,
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We'll drink a Thousand Gallons out;
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We ne're will cease to drink and shout,
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And cry, God bless Queen Mary.
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V.
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Priests shall down, the Pope shall bleed,
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Since our Nation thus is freed,
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From the Babylonish Weed,
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By William, the brave Hero.
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France shall quake, The Pope shall leer;
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Teague shall run away for Fear,
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Curse his Fate and hang his Ear,
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And houle out Lero, Lero.
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VI.
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Come, here's a Health, I now begin,
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To our Gracious King and Queen,
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And to their long an happy Reign,
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To rule in Peace our Nation.
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Let them long enjoy the same,
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And put their Foes to open Shame:
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Aut let us not be laid i'th Blame,
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To cause the least Vexation.
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