ALas! What Times are those were like to see,
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When Men are stigmatizd for LOYALTY;
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And called Tivies, Tories, and what not,
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And worse abusd than those concernd Ith PLOT?
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And we Poor Prentices, how were abusd,
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Because to side with Faction we refusd:
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Had we with Clubs and Staves run to Whitehall,
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And there demanded Things Irrational:
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Run into Churches, and tore Common-Prayers,
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Pulld out the Good old Bishops by the Ears,
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And rent the Surplices, those decent Wares;
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Revivd but Forty One again; O then,
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Instead of VERMIN, wed been Gentlemen!
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But hold Impartial, We are not so mad
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For to displease our KING, to make thee glad;
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I know full well thats it thoudst have Us do,
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But know dull Ass, well not be advisd by you.
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Thou simple Sot, the very worst of Fools,
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Dost think to make UsForty One Tools;
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By Publishing thy damnd fallacious Stories,
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To asperse those Loyal Men, whom thou callst Tories?
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Who can expect peaceable Times to see,
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Whilst thou art thus fomenting Enmity?
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And is this the way t Extirpate the Pope:
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Judge now thy self if thou dont merit R.....
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But on, thou damnd Incendiary, Print what you will,
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We London APPRENTICES will be Loyal still:
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We ever lovd our KING, and ever shall;
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And for his Service, our Lives and Fortunes all
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Doth lye prepard, whilst he has need to call.
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In the mean time We Apprentices will Sing,
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And clap our Hands, and say, God save our King.
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