The True English Prophet:
OR,
ENGLANDS Happiness
A Hundred Years Hence.
Licensed according to Order.
To a New Play-House Tune.
|
I.
|
COme chear up your Hearts, Boys, & all hands to Work,
|
We'll be Happy and Blest, spight of Devil and Turk;
|
Our Land you must know, we shall one day see flow
|
With that dear Milk and Honey,
|
Call'd Plenty and Money,
|
If we can but a little with Patience dispence,
|
Those Blest Days will be Ours all a Hundred Years hence.
|
II.
|
By that time our Foes will be all Dead and Rotten,
|
Our Quarrels all hush't, and our Troubles forgotten;
|
His Gout, Stone and Pox, will have then done the work
|
Of Europes Old Blood-hound,
|
The most Christian Turk:
|
For Lucifer waits his New Reign to Commence,
|
And all long before a Hundred Years hence.
|
III.
|
Our Taxes we'll heartily pay in our Turns,
|
Count it which way you please, for our Heads or our Horns
|
We shall see that blest Day, when we ne're shall be poor,
|
If our Wives have not sent us
|
To Heav'n long before.
|
Peace, Blessing, and Plenty, their Smiles will dispence
|
At furthest within one poor Hundred Years hence.
|
IV.
|
And what, tho' thus long we have mourn'd the sad wants
|
Of a Glass of good Bourdeaux and Cup of fine Nants,
|
We then shall have Wine, and Brandy most certain,
|
A Quart for a Shilling,
|
And Two-pence a Quartern;
|
For the Generous French will that Favour dispence,
|
If we happen to live but a Hundred Years hence.
|
V.
|
'Tis true, no great store of Coin we can boast,
|
Our Wealth and our Silver, alas, are Rid Post;
|
But what, though the Clippers and Coiners have snip'd it,
|
And o're the Herring-Pond
|
The Wars they have whipp'd it,
|
We shall role in the Mill'd Crowns, Pounds, Shillings & Pence,
|
If we live and do well but a Hundred Years hence.
|
VI.
|
In a Hundred Years time, how the World we shall settle,
|
We shall certainly then have quite mended our Kettle,
|
Our Disputes and our Titles, will then be Adjusted,
|
And Monsieur by that time
|
Perhaps may be trusted:
|
Then England to France her smiles shall dispence
|
In a General Peace a Hundred Years hence.
|
VII.
|
In Wedding, and Bedding, and Gossiping Rates,
|
Tho' we now pay for Kissing, and getting of Brats;
|
Our Grandsons will lay the young Girls on their Backs
|
In the fear of the Lord,
|
And without fear of Tax;
|
Without Socket-Money, or Christning Expence,
|
Take up the Smock Cheaper a Hundred Years hence.
|
VIII.
|
And what tho' our Citizens, honest good People,
|
In hopes of a New, and swinging Paul's Steeple,
|
Stand Gaping to see it Rise higher and higher;
|
Whilst we Raise by our Coals
|
What we Lost by our Fire,
|
With that small yearly Rent they'll easily dispence:
|
For Pauls will be Built in a Hundred Years hence.
|
IX.
|
Nay, the Bank Bills that Swagger'd so high, tho' of late
|
They're Dwindled to Twenty per Centum Rebate,
|
If you'll stay but a while, and be but so Civil
|
To wait but till Knavery
|
Is gone to the Devil;
|
By that time they'll hold up their Heads, and speak sense
|
If you can but have Patience i' a Hundred Years hence.
|
X.
|
The City will then make their Orphans all Rich,
|
Have pay'd off their Bedlam-Score, Mum-Glass and Ditc[h]
|
Our Casements and Windows, that now pay their Light;
|
And all to the making
|
Our Silver more Bright;
|
Will Crown with full Glory our Shillings and Pence:
|
For our Mint will Shine out a Hundred Years hence.
|
XI.
|
But now, without Rallying or Joque, lets agree,
|
To pay our Great Caesar our Hand, Heart and Knee
|
The Heroe, whose Sword for our Liberty Draws,
|
Who faces Blood, Danger,
|
And Death in Our Cause.
|
Some few Months, we hope, will his warm Beams dispen[se]
|
And our Heirs Bless his Name a Hundred Years hence.
|
|
|
|
|
|