THE
LOYALIST
Setting Forth the
WHIGG
In his Own
COLOURS.
A New SONG, To the Tune of Sawny and Jockey.
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I.
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COme, fill it up, and give me a Brimmer Boy;
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Jammeys come home again, with him his Dearest Joy:
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Let's Quaffe it round in spight of the Whiggish Crew,
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Jack Catch I hope at last will give the Deele his due.
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Let us true Loyal
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Subjects Joy all,
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In the Blood Royal without denyal.
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True Hearted
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Are Thwarted,
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--------- And oftentimes
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Parted:
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But never will start from their Principles Loyal.
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II.
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May Whiggish Designes, be always discover'd,
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The Ills of these Times will then be recover'd:
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Too lately they did Three Kingdoms Confound,
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And made them Drink Healths of their Blood on the Ground.
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For whilst the Nation
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Is wrought into Passion,
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By False Perswasion, Dissimulation:
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True Subjects will
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Suffer ill,
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And bear the Burden
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Still,
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Till Loyalty is once more out of Fashion.
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III.
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Let Old Trinomen have his due in the end,
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May G--- and M--- think him no more their Friend;
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Let them no longer give Ear to his Pollicie,
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For all his Cunning he may gain the Gallow-Tree:
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But let them flye him,
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No more come nigh him,
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With Penitent Sighing, always defye him.
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Let Coo---r
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Have fair Play,
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Care, Curtiss,
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Janeway;
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Jack Gatch can teach them the true way of dying.
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IV.
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Why should false Zeal expose us to Evil,
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Where Out-sides's all Saint, and Insides's all Devil;
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For thus it has prov'd e're since Reformation,
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When Presbyter Swayes, Kings are out of Fashion:
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Too late it was their Cry,
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Let him die, Popery
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Will through the Kingdom flee, stand for the Cause Boy:
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We the Land
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By our Hand,
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Will Command
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Who Withstands,
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Shall for a Traytor unto the State die.
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V.
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Thus when the Zealots the Power had got,
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True Subjects Estates, nay Lives went to Pot:
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Then all were Rebells that Fought for their King,
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And Damn'd Sequestration was then the next thing:
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Choose, cryes the City,
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A Zealous Committee,
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To Cavaleers grant no manner of Pity:
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The Old Cause,
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Destroyes Laws,
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Hangs, Drawes
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For Old Sawes:
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And this was Poor Englands late Presbyter Ditty.
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VI.
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Then let us beware of a second relapse,
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Long Live the King and York, cast up your Capps:
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Let us endeavour to preserve the Nation
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From Subtil Devices, Bills, Associations,
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Then let 'em Plot on,
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Lot on, Pot on;
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In their Cabals Boyes, still let 'em Sot;
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Let's Watch 'em,
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And Catch 'em,
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Dispatch 'em,
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Rope Stretch 'em;
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Vive le Roy, Then let the Pox Rot 'em.
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