BELGICK-BOAR,
To the TUNE of
Chivy-Chase.
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I.
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GOd prosper long our Noble King,
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Our Hopes and Wishes all.
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A fatal Landing late there did
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In Devonshire befall.
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II.
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To drive our Sovereign from his Throne,
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Prince Nassaw took his way,
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The Babe may rue that's lately born,
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His Landing at Torbay.
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III.
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The stubborn Tarquin, void of Grace,
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Vows to Hell did make,
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To force his Father Abdicate,
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And then his Crown to take.
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IV.
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And eke the Royal Infant Prince
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To seize, or drive away.
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These Tydings to our Monarch came
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In White-hall, where he lay.
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V.
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Who unconcern'd at the Report,
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At first would not believe,
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That any of his Royal Race,
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Such Mischief should conceive.
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VI.
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Till time which ripens all things did,
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The villany disclose.
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And of a Nephew, and a Son,
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Forg'd out the worst of Foes.
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VII.
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Who by Infernal instinct led,
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A Mighty Fleet prepares,
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His Father's Kingdom to invade,
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And fill his Heart with Cares.
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VIII.
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Our Gracious King desires to know,
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What his Pretensions were.
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And how without his Leave he durst,
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Presume on Landing here;
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IX.
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Declaring what was deem'd amiss,
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Should soon amended be.
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And whatsoever should be desir'd,
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He wou'd thereto Agree.
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X.
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And for a speedy Parliament,
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He doth forthwith Declare:
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The Surly Bruit not minding this,
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Does to our Coasts repair.
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XI.
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With several thousand Belgick Boors,
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All chosen Rogues of Spight,
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Join'd with Rebels, who from hence
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And Justice, had ta'n Flight.
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XII.
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Who Arm'd with Malice, and with Hope,
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Soon threw themselves a Shore,
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C[r]ying our Religion, and our Laws,
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They came for to Restore.
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XIII.
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Then Declarations flew about,
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As thick as any Hail,
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Which on the Rude and Senseless Rout,
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Did Mightily prevail.
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XIV.
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We must be Papists, or be Slaves,
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Is now the General Cry;
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But wee'l do any thing to save
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Our Darling Liberty.
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XV.
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Wee'l join with a Forreign Prince,
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Against our Lawful King:
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For he from all Fancy[']d Fears,
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Deliverance doth bring.
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XVI.
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And if what he Declares prove true
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(As who knows but it may)
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Were he the Devil of a Prince,
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Wee'l rather him obey.
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XVII.
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Then our Allegiance let's cast off,
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James shall no longer guide us,
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And tho' the French would Bridle us,
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None but the Dutch shall Ride us.
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XVIII
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And whoso will not join with us
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In this Design so brave,
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Their Houses wee'l pull down, or Burn,
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And Seize on what they have.
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[XIX.
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These growing Evils to prevent,]
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Our King his F[orce does bend;]
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But amongst those he most did trust,
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He scarce did find one Friend.
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XX.
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Those rigling vermin, who so late
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His Royal Rays did shroud,
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And Bask'd and wanton'd in his Beams,
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Now leave him in a Cloud.
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XXI.
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O how my very heart doth bleed
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To think, how basely they,
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Who long had Eaten Royal Bread,
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Their Master now betray.
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XXII.
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And those whom he had most oblig'd,
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And greatest Favour shewn,
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Appear'd to be the very first
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Who sought him to Dethrone.
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XXIII.
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O Compton, Langston, and the rest,
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Who basely from him ran,
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Your Names forever be Accurst,
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By every Englishman.
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XXIV.
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Proud Tarquin he pursues his Game,
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And quickly makes it plain,
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He came not to Redress our Wrongs,
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But Englands Crown to gain.
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XXV.
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And ore his Father's mangled Fame,
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His Chariot proudly drives,
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Whilst he Good man, altho' in vain,
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To pacifie him strives.
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XXVI.
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He bids him make his own Demands.
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And say for what he came,
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And anything except the Crown,
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He should have Leave to Claim.
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XXVII.
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But he ungrateful would not hear
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This Message, tho' so kind,
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But caus'd the Royal Messenger,
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Forthwith to be Confin'd.
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XXVIII.
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He brings his Nasty Croaking Crew,
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Unto his Father's Gate,
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Dismist his own, makes them his Guards,
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O dismal turn of Fate.
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XXIX.
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Also at Midnight drives him thence,
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O horrid impious thing;
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Where such Affronts are offered to
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A Father and a King.
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XXX.
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A King so good, so just, so kind,
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So merciful to all;
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His virtues were his only Fault,
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And that which caus'd his Fall.
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XXXI.
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Who now his Royal Life to save,
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Is forc't to fly the Land,
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[And leave his Scepter to be grasp'd
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By an ungracious Hand.]
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XXXII.
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Hells Journeymen are strait Convein'd,
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To rob God of his Power,
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Set up themselves a Stork-like King
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The Nation to devour.
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XXXIII.
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And to secure his Lawless Throne.
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Now give him all we have,
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And make each Freeborn English heart
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Become a Belgick Slave.
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XXXIV.
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The Bar, the Pulpit, and the Press,
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Infatuously combine,
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To cry up an Usurping Power,
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And Stamp it for Divine.
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XXXV.
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Our Loyalty we must melt down,
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And have it Coin'd anew,
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For what was currant heretofore,
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Will now no longer do.
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XXXVI.
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Our Fetters we ourselves put on,
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Our selves, our selves did Bubble;
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Our Conscience a meer Pack-horse make,
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Which now must carry double.
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XXXVII.
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Oh England, when to future times,
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This Story shall be known,
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How will they Blush, to think what Crimes,
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There Ancestors have done.
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XXXVIII.
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But after all, what have we got
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By this our Dear-bought King;
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Why, that our Scandal and Reproach,
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Throughout the World may Ring.
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XXXIX.
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That our Religion, Liberty,
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And Law, we held so dear,
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Are more invaded in this Change,
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Than ever yet they were.
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XXXX.
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Our Coffers drain'd, our Coin impair'd,
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That Little which remains;
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Our Persons seiz'd, our Thoughts arraign'd,
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Our Freedom now in Chains.
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XXXXI.
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Our Traffique ruin'd, Shipping lost,
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Our Traders most undone,
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Our Bravest Heroes Sacrific'd,
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Our Antient Glory gone.
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XXXXII.
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A fatal, Costly War entangl'd,
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On this Unhappy Isle,
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Unless above what we deserve,
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Kind Heaven at last do smile.
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XXXXIII.
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And bring our injur'd Monarch home,
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And place Him on His Throne,
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And to Confusion bring his Foes,
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Which God grant may be done.
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