A
NEW SONG,
ON THE
Strange and Wonderful
GROANING BOARD.
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I.
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WHat Fate inspired thee with Groans,
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To fill Phanatick Brains?
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What ist thou sadly thus bemoans,
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In thy Prophetick Strains?
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II.
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Art thou the Ghost of William Pryn,
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Or some Old Politician?
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Who long tormented for his Sin,
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Laments his sad Condition?
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III.
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Or must we now believe in thee,
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Th Old Cheat Transmigration?
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And that thou now art come to be
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A Call to Reformation?
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IV.
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The giddy Vulgar to thee run,
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Amazd with Fear and Wonder;
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Some dare affirm, that hear thee groan,
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Thy Noise is petty Thunder.
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V.
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One says and Swears, you do foretell
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A Change in Church and State;
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Another says, you like not well
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Your Master Stephens Fate.
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VI.
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Some say, you Groan much like a Whigg,
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Or rather like a Ranter;
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Some say as loud, and full as big
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As Conventicle Canter.
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VII.
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Some say, you do Petition,
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And think you represent
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The Woe, and sad Condition
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Of Old Rump Parliament.
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VIII.
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The wisest say, you are a Cheat;
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Another Politician
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Says, tis a Mistery as great
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And true, as Hatfield Vision.
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IX.
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Some say, tis a New Evidence,
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Or Witness of the Plot;
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And can Discover many things,
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Which are the Lord knows what.
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X.
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And least you should the Plot Disgrace,
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For wanting of a Name,
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Narrative Board henceforth well place
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In Registers of Fame.
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