THE
Dutch's Happy Conquest:
OR, THE
French Routed
In their Voyage to [?] Tyrconnel in Ireland, Feb. 28, 1689.
Tune of the Thundring Canons Rore. Licensed and Entred according to Order.
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O hark! I hear the French and Dutch;
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Lately met and had a ronch,
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T[h]e which doth [vex] the Pop[i]sts much,
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to hear the French are routed;
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For the Dutch did [make?] them [sore?]
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As they did meet them going o're,
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[I]n[t]ending fo[r] the [Irish?] shore,
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as on the Seas they [co][?]t[??].
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The French we[r]e going as its said,
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O're to Ireland for to Aid
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T[yr]conne[l], but they w[e]re betraid,
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and by the Dutch were boarded;
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For when the Dutch did with them meet,
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[Galla]ntly they did them treat
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Wit[h] pow[d][?] strong and bullets g[r]eat;
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their thundring Cannons roared.
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And now Tyrconnel he's undone,
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Not knowing which way for to run,
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His Enimies the Dutch to shun,
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who reigns in Chief at Sea sir,
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For now he thinks to Fr[a]nce to get,
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But he'll be catched in a Net;
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For he's on e'ry side beset,
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and moneys he hath none sir.
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Then let the French King take his part,
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By Sea or Land he'll find the smart;
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For the Dutch will never start
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since that we are United,
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And Protestants do all agree;
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In time t[h]e [P]op[e] of [R]ome to see,
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And make his Holiness to flee,
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and run as he were frighted.
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For why the Dutch lye on the Sea,
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To watch Monnsieur continually,
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Who is their greatest enemy,
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where ever they do go sir;
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And now the French may stay at home.
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For now the Dutch will keep their own,
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In the dispi[t]e of Bab[i]lon
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what ever they can do sir.
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For all that e're the French can do,
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Will not make brave Holland bow:
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That they will make the French to know
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that they will keep the Seas clear;
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For if they dare but once peep out,
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Then to be sure they'l have the Rout
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By the Dutch, who are so stout,
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and valueth not Mounsieur.
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And Englands Valour will be tride,
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With brave Holland for to side,
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To pull down Mounsieurs haughty pride,
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for all his false Delusions;
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For let him know, his Country-men
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That persecuted were from them;
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In time do hope to come agen,
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and to his own Confusion.
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Now to the Whore of Babylon,
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Here's a Cup of Confusion,
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Which great King William hath begun,
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so wisely and so wary;
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Let heav[e]ns bless Him e'ry day,
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The Royal Scepter for to sway,
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And Protestants may ever pray,
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for WILLIAM and Queen MAR[Y]
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