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EBBA 33962

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
Needs must when the DEVIL drives:
or,
AN EMBLEM
Of what we must expect if High-Church gets uppermost.

EXPLANATION

When first Mankind were sway'd by Passive Ruls,
Princes turn'd Tyrants and their subjects Fools:
These laid aside their Sense those took the Sword;
And,I Will be Obey'd, was then the Word.
To which the silly senseless Slaves reply'd
We're all your Asses pray get up and Ride
If e'er their Sovereign bid them cut their Throat,
The Wretch made no demur, but cry'd he'd do't
If Heads were sent for, unjust Sentence given,
He that withstood his Prince, resisted Heaven:
So rather than they wou'd their King controul,
The People damn'd themselves to save their Souls.
Passive Obedience, thus at first began,
And Non Resistance, by the side on't ran,
Till after many Years and Ages past,
The World grew old, and Men grew wise at last.
Nations that long, in vain for help had pray'd,
At length call'd in their Reason to their aid:
Wisely considering that our God above,
Whose most Essential Attribute is Love,
Who sent his only Son to save Mankind,
Such Cruelty cou'd never have design'd,
Whole Kingdoms, to create to be undone
By the ambitious Tyranny of one,
Who cou'd, by Nature, no Distinction boast,
But, by the Instigation of his Lust,
Seem'd rather from the lower Regions hurl'd
First to debauch, and then to damn the World.
Thus by degrees, in Arms whole Nations rose,
Their Rights assert, and Tyranny oppose:

And so of late Brittania's Offspring fir'd
By Natures Laws and solid Sense inspir'd,
One Tyrant Prince by force of Arms withstood,
And Crown'd a Man more Righteous in his stead,
But some there are that neer will be Content
With any sort or kind of Government.
These Curse the Means that did our safety bring,
And wish they'd still retain'd their Tyrant King.
To AEgypt back again they long to fly,
And hope they may be Slaves before they Die.
Let such (unprejudic'd) but view this Print,
They'll find there's something that's uncommon in't.
The Devil drives the Coach in it's a Vi---------
The Steeds are fierce; the Doctor he's Postillion:
Gallows, and Wooden Shooes are plac'd behind;
(At least our Author he hath so design'd)
To show the Nation what must be their Doom.
When the Pretender to the Throne shall come:
When Moderation like a Victim lies,
And Arbitrary Power in its place shall rise;
The Nation (but in vain) shall then implore
That Toleration which they damn'd before:
Our Laws, our Liberties, shall be a Prey
To Gallick Fury, and Tyrrannick Sway:
Our Wives, our Children, all that now we boast
To call our own, will be forever lost:
Your Lands will be to Monks and Fryers given,
And you must part with Gold to purchase Heaven.
Let who will say ther's nothing in this print,
I'll swear the DOCTOR and the devil's in't.

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