Loyalty Triumphant;
OR,
A Looking-Glass for Deceivers.
Detracting Whigs, come here and take a view,
For what is pend, is no more strange than true.
Tune of, Let the Critticks adore.
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LEt the Whigs ner adore
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Their old Grandees no more,
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theyr out-done, Sirs!
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North and Rich are sworn in,
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Who care not a pin
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for ner a one, Sirs!
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What these Rascals can do,
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Since theres a Lord Mayor too
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wont be won, Sirs!
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To do ought that is ill
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gainst the Church or the Crown;
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Or to wink at their Meetings,
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but will pull them all down:
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Oh! the Whigs are stark mad at
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these Sherriffs and new Mayor;
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And swear they could be glad that
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their Walloons were there.
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O ye Whigs now lament,
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For youl find the event
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of your Treason;
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Since the Kings full awake,
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He will make your hearts ake,
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all but reason;
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That such Rake-hells as you,
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Give the Devil his due,
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in this season,
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For protecting your Peer, by
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your damnd Ignoramus;
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For packing such Sheriffs, and
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such Juries to shamm us;
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For laying together
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your seditious pates,
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That will never look well,
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till on the City-Gates.
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To prevent such sad end,
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Be advizd by a Friend,
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tack about, Sirs!
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And be not ashamd
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To wish those Rogues damnd
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of the Rout, Sirs!
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That wont out with their Chinck,
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The Kings Health to drink,
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sure theyr out, Sirs!
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For if the Kings life
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had not preservd been,
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Such Traytors as these
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would surely have seen,
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A King justly rigid,
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or damnd Common-wealth;
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That would make them all wish
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they had drank the Kings Health.
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