A KING and No KING:
OR,
King James's Wish.
Being an Excellent New Copy of Verses, of the Never to be forgotten by
his Unholiness the POPE, our late King James. Sent in a Letter to
that Damn'd Cursed Whore of Babylon, who is a Harlot to Antichrist,
Dutchess of Hell, and Countess of Purgatory.
Translated out of Irish into French, by the Pretended Prince of Wales,
and Englished by his supposed Mother, The Italian Dutchess.
To the Tune of, Sawny will ne're be my Love again.
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MY Wretched Fate, I do declare,
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And of my Queen, with grief, complain,
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Who's brought me into such a Snare,
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I fear shall ne're be free again.
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I Wish I had ne're been Crown'd King,
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How happy then should I have Liv'd,
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And Plenty I had of e'ry thing,
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Bad Counsel taken; from those did give.
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I Wish I ne're Consented then[,]
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Poor Monmouth's Life to take away;
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Nor in the West Destroy'd those Men,
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Thus Bad Counsel I did Obey.
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I Wish I had not sent to the Tower
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Those Seven Bishops me Counsel gave;
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But now at last I am out of Power,
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And you no more K. James shall have.
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I Wish I had been Rul'd by them,
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And their good Counsel I had tain,
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But 'twas my Queen that Ruled then,
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Which causeth me thus to complain.
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A False Pretended Prince of Wales,
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Our Mother-Church bid us Contrive,
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And fill'd us up with Damn'd False Tales,
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That the Hereticks all should lose their Lives.
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Then all our Rogueries did come out,
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And to an Orange it was sent;
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And in my Nations it made a Rout,
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And all for a Free Parliament.
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Away I went for fear of the Worst,
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For well I knew what I had done;
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My Conscience would my Friends not Trust,
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But with all speed to France must run.
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I Wish I had been true to those,
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That Counsell'd me always for good;
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But I was led like a Bear by the Nose
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By Petres, and those cursed brood.
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I am a King, and yet am none,
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Which makes me out of my Wits,
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Cause I belong'd to the Beast of Rome;
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Our cursed designs are all beshit.
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Trust not the Devil, nor the Pope,
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Nor Lewis the Great, with my false Bride,
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For if you do your Doom's a Rope,
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With other Tortures, what e're betide.
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Now I'll close up all with a Wish,
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That I the Popedom shortly gain;
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There shall be no Popes but I their Saint,
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And then I shall have no cause to complain.
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FINIS.
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