A MAN in Favour,
OR,
The way to Preferment.
To the Tune of, Would you be a Man of Fashion.
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WOuld you be a Man in Favour?
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Would you have your Fortune kind?
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Wear the Cross and Eat the Wafer,
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you'll have all things to your Mind:
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If the Priests cannot Convert you,
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Int'rest then must do the thing.
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There are Fryers can inform you,
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how to please a P------ T------.
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Would you see a Papist Lowring,
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lost in Hurry and a Fright;
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With their Father Peters Scowring,
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glad of happy time for Flight.
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Stay but while the Dutch are Landed,
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and the show will straight appear;
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When th' Infernal Sp'rits disbanded,
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few will stay for Tyburn here.
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If Preferment you'd be gaining,
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Or advanc'd be nigh the Throne;
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Bribe some pious Pimp, pertaining
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to the Whore of Babylon.
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Priests are now the sacred Noddyes,
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that spur on the hateful Cause;
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They from Tyburn save their Bodies,
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by dispensing with our Laws.
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Peters was the Popish Darling,
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[now] has left us in the lurch,
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And has quite giv'n o'er his snarling,
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and his snapping at our Church.
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Now the Dutch are come to right her,
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Peters sadly fears a Cord:
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For the Prince will bite the Biter,
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and his Holy Cheats reward.
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All you catchpole Priests be speedy,
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for bad Times are coming on;
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Tyburn groans and will be greedy
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for all you that are not gone:
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Hast and follow Father Peters,
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Popery must now go down;
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The King no more will trust such Creatures
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to be plac'd too nigh his Throne.
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Now the Priests are all Confounded,
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and their vile Intriegues are crost;
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By the Dutch they are surrounded,
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and penn'd up within our Coast:
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Many Aching hearts, I fancy,
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are amongst the todpole Train,
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If they were got safe beyond-Sea,
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they'd ne'er trouble us again.
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