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ATtend good people, lay by scoffs and scorns,
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Let Roundheads all this day pull in their horns,
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But let Conformists and brave Caviliers
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Unto my doleful Tone prick up their Ears.
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Take from my neck this Robe, a Rope's more fit,
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And turn the Surplice to a Penance-Sheet,
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This Pulpit is too good to act my part,
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More fit to preach at Tyburn in a Cart:
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There I deserv'd t'have taken my degree,
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And Doctor Dun should have presented me,
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There with an hempen-hood I should be sped,
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And his three-cornered Cap should crown my head.
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Here I am come to hold up guilty hand,
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And of the Beast to give myself the Brand,
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Here by confessing I have been i'th wrong,
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I come to bore myself through my own Tongue.
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In learning my poor Parents brought up me,
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And sent me to the Universitie,
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There I soon found bowing the was to rise:
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And th' only Logick was the Fallicies.
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Instead of Aristotles Organon,
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Anthens and Organs I did study on,
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If I could play on them, I soon did find,
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I rightly had preferment in the Wind,
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I followed that hot sent without controul,
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I bow'd my body, and I sung Fa Sol;
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I cozen'd Doctor Couzens, and e're long
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A Fellowship obtained For a Song.
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Then by degrees I clim'd until I got
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Good friends, good Cloths, good Commons, and what not
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I got so long, until at length I got
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A Wench with Child, and then I got a Blot.
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Before the Consistorie I was try'd,
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Where like a Villaine I both swore and ly'd,
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And from the Whore I made, I was made free,
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By purging of myself incontinent LEE.
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But as I scorn'd to Father mine one Brat,
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Twas done to me as I had done with That.
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The Doctors all when a Doctor I would be,
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As a base Son, refus'd to Father me,
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With much adoe, at length by art and cunning,
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My Tears and Vows prevail'd with Peter Gunning.
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Me to adopt and for his love and care,
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I will devout myself to Peter's Chaire.
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Cambridge I left with greif and great disgrace,
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To seek my fortune in some other place;
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And that I might the better save my stake.
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I took an Order and did Orders take.
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Amongst Conformists I myself did list
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A Son o'th Church as good as ever pist.
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But though I bow'd, and cring'd, and crost and all,
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I only got a Vicaridge very small.
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E're I was warm (and warm I ne're had been
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In such a starved hole as I was in)
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A fire upon the Church and Kingdom came;
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Which I strait help't to blow into a flame.
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The Second Part.
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MY Conscience first like Balaams Ass, was shie,
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Boggled, and winc'd, which when I did espie;
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I cudgel'd her, and spur'd her on each side,
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Until the Jade her paces all could ride.
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When first I mounted on her tender Back
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She would not leave the Protestant dull Rack,
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Till in her Mouth the Covenant Bitte I got,
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And made her learn the Presbyterian Trot.
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'Twas an hard Trot, and freted her (alas
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'The Independant Amble easier was,
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I taught her that, and out of that to fall
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To the Tantivy of Prelaticall.
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I rode her once to Rumford with a pack
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Of Arguments for Covenant on her back.
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That Journey she perform'd at such a rate
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The Committee gave me a rich peice of Plate.
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From Hatfield to St. Albans I did ride,
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The Army cal'd for me to be their Guide,
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There I so spur'd her that I made her fling
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Not only dirt but blood upon my King.
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When Cromwell turn'd his Masters out by force;
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I made the Beast draw like a Brewers horse,
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Under the Rump I made her were a Crooper,
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And under Lambert she became a Trooper.
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When Noble Monk the King did home conveigh,
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Shee (like Darius steed began to Neigh.
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I taught her since to Organ Pipes to Prance,
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As Bankes his Horse could to a fiddle dance,
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Now with a Snaffle or a Twyned Thred
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To any Government shee'l turn her head
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I have so broke her she doth never start,
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And thats the meaning of my broken heart.
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I have found out a cunning way with ease
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To make her cast her Coat when e're I please;
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And if at Rack and Manger she may be,
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Her Colts Tooth Shee will keep most wanton-LEE.
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Ile change as often as the Man i'th Moon;
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His frequent Changing makes him rise so soon,
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To eat Church Plum-broth e're it all be gone,
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I'le have the, Devils spoon but Ile have One.
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For many years my Tongue did lick the Rump;
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But when I saw a King was turn up Trump,
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I did resolve still in my hand to have
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One winning Card, although 'twere but a Knave.
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If the great Turk to England come, I can
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Make Gospel truckle to the Alchoran;
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And if their Turkish Saboaths should take place,
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I have in readiness my Friday Face.
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If lockt in Iron Chest (as we are told)
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A Loadstone their great Mahomet can hold:
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The Loadstone of preferment (I presage)
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To Mahomet may draw this Iron Age.
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The Congregation way best pleas'd my mind;
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There were most Shees, and they most free and kind.
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By Chamber practise I did better thrive
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Then all my livings though I Skimmed five.
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Mine eyes are open now my sins to see,
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With tears I cry Good people pardon me,
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My Reverend Fathers pardon I do crave,
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And hope my Mothers blessing yet to have.
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My Cambridge sins, my Bugden sins are vile,
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My Essex sins, my sins in Ely-Isle,
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My Leicester sins, my Hatfield sins are many,
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But my St. Albans sins more red then any.
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To CHARLES the first I was a bloudy Foe,
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I wish I do not serve the second so,
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The onely way to make me leave that trick,
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Is to bestow on me a Bishoprick.
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This is St Andrews Eve and for his sake
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A Bishoprick in Scotland I could take;
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And though a Metropolitan there be;
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I'de be as Sharpe and full as Arch as he.
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Now may this Sermon never be forgot,
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Let others call't a Sermon, I a Plot,
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A Plot that takes if it believed be,
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If not I shall repent unfeigned LEE
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I must desire the Crack-fart of the Nation,
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With Reverence to let fly this Recantation,
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Our Names ty'd taile to taile make a sweet Change
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Mine onely is Stange Lee, and his Le-Strange.
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