The TRIUMPHING
English Commanders,
Or the Rebells Overthrow and utter Desolation.
To the Tune of the Thundring Cannons roar. This may be Printed, RL.S.
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I.
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HOld! the numrous Carriages!
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Fraughted strongly to possess
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All the Kingdoms great and less,
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Of Mighty JAMES the Gratious;
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Sith tis His own by Birth and Right,
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Against the Traytors let us Fight,
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And make it only our delight
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To kill the Rogues that face us.
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II.
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Douglas and his Warlike Train,
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Triumphs ore the Woods and Plain,
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But not disturb the peacefull Swain,
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Unless James Scot they favour;
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Then the dying endless Cryes
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Of such Rogues, shall rend the Skies,
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Expecting still their Destinies,
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Cause they of Rebells Savour.
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III.
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Infinits the Loyal Host,
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Harbring round the Western-Coast,
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Waiting on poor Monmouths Ghost,
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Whom they resolve to fetter;
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With a Shackle and a Chain,
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(A just reward ofs evil Brain)
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And after rid him out of pain,
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Cause he woud be no better.
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IV.
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The Rebells now do Glaston reach,
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And where they go, Rebellion Teach,
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And still the Good Old Cause they Preach,
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And pray for Ignoramus;
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Whilst the Dukes and Heros brave,
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Contrive the Faction to enslave;
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Monmouth seeks his Neck to save,
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But he shall never sham us.
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V.
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Great Albermarl, and Sommerset,
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Grafton, Beaufort, are all met,
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And Perkin they have all beset,
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And on the Boors are waiters;
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Pembrook, likewise them doth joyn,
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And Feversham with them combine,
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Whose Glories do the Sun outshine,
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T Ecclipse that of the Traytors.
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VI.
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Churchill too, the West Invades,
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(With his Glorious merry Lads,
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Whose great Honour never fades)
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To subdue the Faction:
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The Loyal Army troop along,
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Through the Towns and Fields they throng,
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And hunt by Scent, which lies so strong,
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For it smells Association.
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VII.
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May Mars inspire the reslute Souls,
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And Bacchus fill the ebbing Bowls
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Of all the Loyal English-Poles,
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Tinspire them and their Horses;
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The Martial God withs glittring shield,
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Will grant no Quarter in the Field,
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To Rebells, till he makes em yield,
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To his unconquerd Forces.
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VIII.
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When the mighty Cannons drown,
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The noise of Bells, and evry sound,
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From the vastest Wiltshire-down,
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Gainst Perkin and the Rebells;
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Then well recharge, and give no breath
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To Traytors, but pursue their death,
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And after Triumph ore the Heath,
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In spight of Wiggesh Libells.
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IX.
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View the mighty flowing Main!
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Swelld above the lofty Plain!
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With the Vitals of the slain,
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(Rewards for all the Evils)
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Of the Traytors; lets destroy
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Evry member for the ROY;
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Then return again with joy,
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That weve subdud the Devils.
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Loayl Subjects now rejoyce,
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Drums, and Trumpets make a noise,
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Drink a cup and sing Brave Boys
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Good health to James the Royal.
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Loyaltys a noble thing,
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Service done unto a King
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Honour and Reward doth bring;
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Then let us still be Loyal.
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