A TURN-COAT of the TIMES.
Who doth by Experience, profess and protect;
That of all professions a Turn-coat's the best.
To a pleasant Tune much in request.
|
AS I was a walking through,
|
Hide-Park, as I us'd to do,
|
Some two or thrhe Months ago,
|
I laid me all along,
|
Without any Fear or Wrong,
|
And lisned unto a Song:
|
It came from a powder'd Thing,
|
As fine as a Lord or a King,
|
He knew not that I
|
Was got so nigh,
|
And thus began to sing.
|
I am a turn coat Knave,
|
Although I do bear it brave,
|
And do not shew all I have:
|
I can with Tongue and Pen,
|
Court every sort of Men,
|
And kill 'em fast again:
|
With Zealots I can pray,
|
With Cavileers I can play,
|
With Shop-keepers I
|
Can Cog and lye,
|
And Cozen as fast as they.
|
When first the Wars began,
|
And Prentices lead the Van,
|
I that did set them on:
|
When they cry'd Bishops down
|
In Country, Court or Town,
|
Quoth I and have at the Crown.
|
The Covenant I did take,
|
For forms and fashions sake:
|
But when it would not
|
Support my Plot,
|
'Twas like an old Almanack.
|
When Independency
|
Had superiority,
|
I was of the same degree:
|
When keepers did command;
|
I then had a Holy Land,
|
In Deans and in Chapters Land,
|
But when I began to spy
|
Protectorship so nigh,
|
And keepers were,
|
Thrown o're the Bar,
|
Old Oliver then cry'd I.
|
When Sectories got the Day,
|
I used my Yea and Nay,
|
To flatter them and betray,
|
In Parliament I got,
|
And there a Member sat
|
To tumble down Church and State,
|
For I was a trusty Trout,
|
In all that I went about,
|
And there we did Vow,
|
To sit till now,
|
But Oliver turn'd us out.
|
We put down the House of Peers,
|
We killed the Cavileers,
|
And tipled the Widows Tears:
|
We sequestred Mens Estates,
|
And made 'em pay Monthly rates,
|
To Trumpeters and their Mates;
|
Rebellion we did Print,
|
And alter'd all the Mint,
|
No Knavery then
|
Was done by Men,
|
But I had a Finger in't.
|
When Charles was put to flight,
|
Then I was at Worster fight,
|
And got a good booty by't,
|
At that most fatal fall,
|
I kill'd and plunder'd all,
|
The weakest went to the Wall,
|
Whilst my merry Men fell on,
|
To piliaging I was gone
|
There is manr thought I,
|
Dill come by and by,
|
And why should not I be one.
|
We triumph'd like the Turk,
|
We cripled the scottish kirk,
|
That sets us first to work:
|
When Cromwel did but frown,
|
They yielded every Town,
|
St. Andrews Cross went down:
|
But when old Nol did die,
|
And Richard his Son put by,
|
I knew not how
|
To guide my Plough,
|
Where now shall I be? thought I.
|
I must confess the Rump,
|
Did put me in a Dump,
|
I knew not what wruld be a trump
|
When Dick had lost the Day,
|
My gaming was at a stay,
|
I could not tell what to play;
|
When Monk was upon that score,
|
I though I would play on more,
|
I did not think what
|
He would be at,
|
I ne'er was so mumpt before.
|
But now I am at Court,
|
With Men of better sort,
|
To purchase a good report;
|
I have the Eyes and Ears
|
Of many brave noble Peers,
|
And fright the Covileers.
|
Poor Knaves they know not how;
|
To flatter cringe and bow.
|
For he that is wise
|
And means to rise,
|
He must be a turn-coat too
|
|
|
|
|
|