A
LETTER
FROM
LEWIS the Great,
To JAMES the Less,
His Lieutenant in IRELAND.
WITH
Reflections by way of ANSWER to the
said LETTER, or serious Contemplations at an Un-
seasonable Time.
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I.
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TO James our Lieutenant this greeting we send:
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As you hope to preserve us your Patron and Friend,
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As you trust to the vertue of us and your Wife,
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Who leads in your absence a dissolute life;
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Now you've sold us your Land,
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Obey Our Command,
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As your Spouse does our Pego when e're it will st-----,
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And what I enjoyn you be sure to observe,
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Since you know not to Rule, I will teach you to Serve.
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II.
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To reduce our new Subjects, we sent you 'tis true,
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But be sure take upon you no more than your due;
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Submit to the Fetters yourself have put on,
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You've the Name of a King, but the Majesties gone.
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For your bold Son-in-Law,
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The valiant Nassaw,
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Who values not your nor my self of a straw,
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Will neither be cullied nor bubbled like you,
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I've a Prospect already of what he will do.
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III.
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Let not Infant or Bedrid your pity implore,
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You've lost all your Kingdoms by that heretofore,
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A Hereticks life like a Dog's I do prise,
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Murther all that oppose you, or 'gainst you dare rise:
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They were Subjects to you,
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Therefore make 'em rue,
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And either give them, or I'le give you your due:
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I acknowledge your folly has made me more wise,
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I see with my own, and not Jesuits eyes.
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IV.
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These Courses in Ireland, I charge you to steer,
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In the Head of your Army be sure to appear,
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You're a Souldier of Fortune, and fight for your pay,
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You know your reward, if you once run away;
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Either Conquest or Death,
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I to you bequeath,
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And therefore prepare for a Shrowd or a Wreath:
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So thus I commit you to one of the Two,
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If I see you no more he[r]e, I bid you adieu.
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Reflections on the LETTER, etc.
To the same Tune.
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I.
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WHEN that Remnant of Royalty Jemmy the Cully,
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Had receiv'd this Epistle from Lewis the Bully,
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His Countenance chang'd, and for madness he cry'd,
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I've the Devil to my Friend, and his Dam to my Bride;
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Sure I am the first
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That's in all things accurst,
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Nor can I determine which Plague is the worst,
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That of losing my Realms or the News I've receiv'd,
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Which from any Hand else, I cou'd ne're have believ'd.
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II.
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I find they agreed when for Ireland they sent me,
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And if I knew how, 'tis high time to repent me;
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I've abandon'd my reason to pleasure a Trull,
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Who has made me her Bubble, her Cuckold and Fool;
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We're all in the Pit,
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Our designs are besh----t,
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And hither I'm sent to recover my Wit:
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If this be the fortune proud Este does bring,
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Wou'd I'de been a Tinker instead of a King.
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III.
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How or which way to turn me, or whither to go,
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By the Faith of a Jesuit I'me a Dog if I know;
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For this going to War I do mortally hate,
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Tho' of Sieges and Battles I ever cou'd prate;
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I thought I had Valour,
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But I find it was Choler,
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Tho' thirty years I have been Lewis's Scholar;
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I've trac'd all his Policies, Maxims and Rules,
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By which I've attain'd to be chief of his Fools.
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IV.
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Had I courage to dye I'de refuse to survive,
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I'm buried already altho' I'm alive,
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My Story's like that of unfortunate Jack,
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I've shuffled and cut till I've quite lost the Pack:
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He that trusts to the Pope,
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No better must hope,
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Or to Lewis or she whom that Pagan does grope:
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For no Monarch must ever expect a good Life,
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Who is rid by a Priest, or a damn'd Popish Wife.
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V.
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May Lewis succeed me in all Circumstances,
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His Arms unsuccessful where e're he advances,
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May his ill gotten Laurels be blasted and dry,
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May a Shrowd be deny'd him when e're he does dye;
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May his Land be o're-run,
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By that Champion our Son:
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So I'le close up with her who that mischief begun;
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May the Curse of three Kingdoms forever attend her,
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While to WILLIAM and MARY my Crown I surrender.
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