The Royal LETTER
To our Gracious Queen MARY, from his Majesty in
FLANDERS:
Who at the Head of Fifty Thousand Men is going to Raise
The Siege of MONS.
To the Tune of, Valiant Jockey's Marcht away. Licensed according to Order.
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TO my Gracious Queen I send
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These Lines, the which I recommend
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With a Princely Love and Royal care;
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My long absence still with patience bear:
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While in Flanders I'll remain,
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With a right Valiant War-like Train;
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Which I am resolved now to head,
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Boys as bold as ever Europe bred:
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Therefore I'll stay, and clear the way,
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Shewing all our Enemies fair Play;
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For though they boast, our Armed Host,
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Ever did, and still shall rule the Roast.
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All the Princes are agreed,
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To fall upon the French with speed,
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And resolved are to let them know,
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That we do not fear a daring Foe:
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With undaunted Courage, we
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Will soon retrieve our Liberty;
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For he shall be hemn'd on e'ry side,
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Thus we will subdue his haughty Pride:
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Now we repair to Brussels, where
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Both the Foot and Horse with Martial Care,
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Will Randevew, and soon renew,
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First a double Strength and Courage too.
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Fifty thousand Men and more,
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As good as ever Armour bore,
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Who will loose their Lives before they'l yeild,
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These are ready now to take the Field:
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'Tis not Lewis that we fear,
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We'll charge him in the Front and Rear;
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True undaunted Courage they shall find,
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Till they flye like Chaff before the Wind:
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Trumpets shall sound, and Balls rebound,
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While the loud-mouth'd Cannons roar all round,
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Courage we'l take, and likewise make
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The vast Center of the Earth to shake.
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MONS the French now lies before,
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But some are laid in Reeking Gore,
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For the Forces often Sally'd out,
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And like valiant Noble Hero's fought:
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Seven hundred they cut down,
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Of French, which lay before the Town,
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This does cause their very hearts to ake,
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Fearing they the Town shall never take:
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Likewise 'tis clear, it doth appear,
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That the Garison is void of fear,
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And doth not doubt, but to hold out,
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Till I come and give Mounsier the Rout.
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And their loss will soon enlarge,
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When we our Cannon to discharge,
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In the Bowels of their Armed Band.
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For my Boys we'l fight with heart and hand;
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Shot as thick as showers of Hail,
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We'l send them with a Flaming Gale,
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Thus between my Army and the Towen,
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We shall brung the Pride of Lewis down:
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Him I defy, they soon shall flye,
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Or I'll know a Legal reason why;
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If this sharp sceen, doth quench his spleen,
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I'll return to thee, my Royal Queen.
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FINIS.
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