THE Lord RUSSELS Last Farewel to the World. A SONG.
|
FArewel, farewel to Mortal Powers,
|
and fond Ambitious Fools;
|
Now guiltless Blood requireth ours,
|
from Providence that Rules.
|
Farewel to Monmouth, Horned Grey,
|
who are from Justice fled;
|
And left me to this fatal Day,
|
to loose my Plotting Head.
|
II.
|
Of all the Lords of our Cabals,
|
I am the first that Dyes
|
Byth hand of Justice, which foretells
|
a Counter Sacrifice;
|
That Blazing-Star at Staffords Death,
|
foretold a fatal Change:
|
Now I declare, with my last breath,
|
it is but just Revenge.
|
III.
|
Farewel to our late Parliaments,
|
which made Three Kingdoms shake;
|
Our Lawless Votes (my Soul torments)
|
was for Rebellions sake:
|
Th Exclusive Bill I did promote
|
with vigour, spleen, and power;
|
Thereby to cut a Monarchs Throat,
|
that causd this Bleeding Hour.
|
IV.
|
The best of Kings I sought to Kill,
|
and drawd in Thousands more:
|
Who neither wanted Wealth nor Will,
|
and Traytors long before:
|
Besides the Peasants and the poor,
|
for Insurrection bent;
|
To lay the Kingdom all in gore,
|
to please a Parliament.
|
V.
|
We neither feared Law nor Right,
|
Prerogative nor Fate;
|
Impeached Queen and Duke for spight,
|
to make the King afraid:
|
We thought he durst not call to count
|
our great Conspiring Heads;
|
But now like me they all must mount,
|
and fall into the Shades.
|
VI.
|
If we had Hangd Tony and Tom,
|
when first the Plot begun;
|
Then I to this had never come,
|
nor James from Justice run:
|
Denying of the Plots in vain,
|
since Essex cuts own Throat;
|
Both Rouse and Walcot owns the same,
|
and all the rest must dot.
|
VII.
|
For my Confession I commit
|
toth Groaning-Boards Divine;
|
Tis his desire to Word it fit,
|
I hope for no Design;
|
If Whiggish Cant, he puts upont,
|
with quivocating Shamms;
|
Then score him up, on our account,
|
his Libel to the Flames.
|
|
|
|
|
|