THE
PAPIST PRAYERS
FOR
Father PETERS:
OR,
Their sad Lamentation for the Downfal of POPERY.
Tune of, A Beging we will go. Lisenced according to Order.
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THere is a Holy Father,
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whom we are bound to Curse,
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And for his evil Stratagems,
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we all shall fair the worse.
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For a wandring we must go, must go, must go,
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And a wandring we must go,
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So Zealous in his Knavery,
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he turn'd the State about;
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Would t'other turn had broak his Neck
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since we are all turn'd out:
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And a wandring we must go, etc.
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He offer'd up his Prayers,
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the Virgin Mary smil'd;
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He pray'd the Blessed Lady,
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the Queen might have a Child:
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But a wandring we must go, etc.
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The Queen she soon Conceiv'd,
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and at last the happy Hour,
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It made her speak so loud,
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the Bishops heard her to the Tower,
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But a wandring we must go, must go, must go.
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And a wandring we must go.
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Of a Prince she was deliver'd,
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and as the storys told;
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The Babe was full as lusty,
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as a Child a Quarter old:
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But a wandring we must go, etc.
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The Tileman's Wife they say,
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who was well rewarded for't
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Presented to the Prince a Tile,
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to make the Child a Cart:
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But a wandring we must go, etc.
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The babe was overjoyed,
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and look't upon the tile;
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So pleas'd with his Newe Play-thing,
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it made his Highness smile?
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And a wandring we must go, etc.
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How bad is our Condition,
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now we must leave the Town:
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And all our Habitations quit,
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to wander up and down.
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And a wandring we must go must go, must go,
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And a wandring we must go.
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How wretched is our state,
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now our Guardian's got a fall:
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The Devil take our Father Peters,
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and the Pope and all.
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For a wandring we must go, etc.
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Now Popery is trampled down,
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the Protestants advance,
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And when the Nation setled,
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they'l take a touch with France:
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And a wandring we must go, etc.
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They've clip't the Wings of popery,
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it can no longer fly;
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But now is bound to stand the test,
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Of Lulla-Babe-by.
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And a wandring we must go, etc.
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How blest was our Condition,
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before we got a fall;
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But now we are Obliged,
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to bid adiew to all.
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And a wandring we must go, must go, must go,
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And a wandring we must go.
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