THE
FANATICK RAMPANT
OR AN
ELECTION
AT
CAMBRIDGE.
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ONE day I heard a zealous shout
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I then lookt up and loe the rout
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of Saints were come to town.
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Who by their Hats right gravely set.
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And Collar-bands I guess were met
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to cry the Bishops down.
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But see how grosly I did err.
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For they came only to prepare
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against that Godly bustle.
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And therefore did most fervently
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With carnal Throats extended cry,
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a Russel, yea, a Russel.
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Some cry'd a Russel, some again
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Mistook the Name and cry'd Amen.
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some with erected fist
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Cry'd O, we find by Revelation
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That this is he must heal the Nation
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and hamstring Antichrist.
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At length there comes me a Freeholder
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With head inclin'd to the left shouder
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and Circumcised hair.
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Who with his snout all wet with sni-vel
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and looks enough to scare a Devil
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Did thus begin his Prayer.
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Lord, if thou dos't thy Saints regard
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Look on the keepers of thy Heard
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Even on thy chosen Russel.
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See but what honour we have done him
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And then, thou needs must powre upon him
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Thy blessings by the Bushel.
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Thy tender flock (Lord) hel'e not pound
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but doth regard the Poor.
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Lord he hath done more for my Wife
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Than er'e I did in all my life,
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O blessed Senator.
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Do thou in time his Worship bring
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To be, to be, a Lordish thing.
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as was his noble Kin. ---
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Thou seest how he alone doth stand,
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And hates the great ones of the Land.
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O well doth he begin.
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Then give him grace Lord not to cease
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Till he hath broke the Cord of Peace,
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That Girdle of the Whore.
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That we again may see that day.
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In which we all may preach and pray.
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and then il'e ask no more.
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With that I spy'd an Image fair
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High mounted in his stately Chair.
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I think to mock the Pope.
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Down Brethren, to the Gallowes gang.
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Said I, he shall not burn but hang
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though I pay for the Rope.
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