ENGLANDS Hopes,
OR,
Look to't TEAGUE
BEING
A Preparative beaten, against the French and Irish
Rebells, etc.
To the Tune, Ise often for my Jeny strove , or, Lilli borlero .
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1.
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FRench and Irish now beware,
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Stand our Forces if you dare:
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Our Fleet and Force by Sea and Land,
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Your Ships and Arms can ne'er withstand.
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William Englands glorious King,
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Shall a down-fall on you bring.
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French and Irish strive in vain ,
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And Jemmy must to France again .
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2.
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Schomberg and brave Solmes they be,
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F am'd for War and Victory:
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Shall on the sole account of fame,
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Half do your business with their name.
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England 's St George shall out-do
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St. Dennis , and St. Patrick too.
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Your hearts do now begin to faint,
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And each of you to Curse his Saint.
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3.
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The Frenchman he does swear begar,
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St. Dennis is no God of War:
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And Teague does at St. Patrick huff,
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And swears he ish no Shaint in Buff.
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Tyrconnel he began the Dance,
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And 'twas follow'd soon by France .
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French and Irish strive in vain ,
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And Jemmy must to F rance again .
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4.
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Schomberg will such Musick make ye,
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To your heels you shall betake ye:
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French and Irish all shall welter,
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Blood and Bogs, in helter skelter.
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Those that from you fled f[or] fear,
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And have aid and succour [n]ere.
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Will return unto your Cost,
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And win again what they [have] lost.
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5.
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Derry , in her Northern station,
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Now's the Glory of that Nation:
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Nought that bears the glorious name
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Of London , but must have a fame:
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Little Derry 's great renown,
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On her founder does redown.
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French and Irish strive in vain ,
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For Jemmy must to France again .
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6.
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Lewis would the Glory win
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Of restoring James again:
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Fain he would be a King-maker,
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But never of an English Acer:
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In his absence, let the Stalion
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Kiss and play with the Italion .
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Be successful in his whoring,
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Never, never, at restoring.
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7.
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All your hopes in Rebel Brother,
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Highlander, Scot, or any other:
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All your joynt designs shall be,
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Turn'd into meer ridiculee.
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Some of your old wise performers,
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Are become the only stormers.
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And rather then they would go down,
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Wou'd Pope or Devil bring to Town.
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8.
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The discontented Irish Rakes,
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Mad, that they have lost their stakes:
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F ain the lost Game would retrieve,
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And hide a Pope in either sleeve.
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But F renchman he must now be gone,
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And leave poor Teague to sing, O hone.
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French and Irish strive in vain ,
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For Jemmy must to France again .
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