When we shall have Peace,
The Lord of Oxford knows.
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THE Old Whiggish Sages, we plainly do see,
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Who sat at the Helm of the late Ministry,
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Contriving, consulting, and studying the means
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Of being most false to the best of all Queens,
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The speedy subversion of th' establisht Church,
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And leaving the State too soon in the lurch;
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Till they had abolisht the Mitre and Crown,
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And pull'd, as in Forty-One, Monarchy down,
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Knew nothing at all, when we shou'd have Peace,
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Because the long War they'd not have to cease,
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For so long as the Bank they had in their Hands,
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They strove to be Masters of all the Church Lands,
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And then for advancing the Antient, good Cause,
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They'd trampled on Equity, Justice, and Laws.
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'Tis true, when we did Doway besiege,
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With specious Pretences, they seem'd to oblige
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The People, with hopes of bringing an End
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To the War, but being too much the good Friend
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Of Lewis, the projects which then were projected
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At Gertruydenberg, were quickly neglected,
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And slighted by that Tyrannical Don,
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Who owned King William, to settle the Son
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Of Dauphine, with speed in the Kingdom of Spain,
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Then Peace into War he changed again.
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But now since P--------r has ben at Versailles,
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The Town's alarm'd again with peaceful Tales,
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Which makes each Coffee-house not to refuse
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To eccho Jo Paean at the News;
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And praise the Arm that conquer'd, to regain
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The Earth's Repose, and Empire o'er the Main:
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Nay, some already the Proposals Print,
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Whether there's any Thing, or nothing in't;
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Whilst others do the Articles recite,
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Say Dunkirk now must be demolisht quite,
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And Cales surrender'd to the English strait,
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T' avoid the farther Loss by Bloody Fate,
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I'm sensible that all true Englishmen
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Do long to see the Face of Peace agen,
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And have no Foreign Wars our Bliss oppose,
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But when 'twill be, The Lord of Oxford knows.
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