Chipps of the Old Block;
OR,
HERCULES
CLEANSING THE
AUGAEAN STABLE
To the Tune of, The Sword.
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I.
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NOw you by your good leave Sirs,
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Shall see the Rump can cleave Sirs,
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And what Chips from this Treacherous Block will come you may conceive Sirs.
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II.
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Lenthalls the first o' the Lump sure,
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A Fart, and he may jump sure,
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For both do stink, and both we know are Speakers of the Rump sure.
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III.
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That Mine of Fraud Sir Artur,
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His Soul for Lands will Barter,
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And if you'd ride to Hell in a Wayne, He's fit to make your Carter.
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IIII.
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Sir Harry Vane, God blesse us,
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To Popery he would presse us,
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And for the Devils dinner he, the Romane way would dresse us.
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V.
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Harry Martin never mist-a,
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To Love the wanton Twist-a,
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And lustfull Aretine's bawdy Leaves are his Evangelist-a.
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VI
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Harry Nevills no Wigeon,
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His practise truly stygian,
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Makes it a Master-piece of wit to be of no Religion.
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VII
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But my good Lord Glyn Man,
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Pride is a deadly sinne Man,
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Cots pluttera nails few Traitors be like you of all your kin Man.
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VIII.
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If Saint-John be a Saint Sir,
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He hath a Devilish Taynt Sir,
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While Straffords blood in Heavens High Court of Justice makes complaint Sir.
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IX.
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Doctor Palmer's all day sleeping,
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And into his Heart ne're peeping,
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Tis ill he that neglects his own, should have All-souls in keeping.
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X
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Will. Bruertons a sinner,
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And, Croyden knowes, a Winner,
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But O take heed least he do eat the Rump all at one Dinner.
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XI.
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Robin Andrews is a Miser,
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Of Coblers no despiser,
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And could they vamp him a new head, perhaps he would be Wiser.
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XII.
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*But Baron Wild come out here,
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Shew your Ferret face and Snout here,
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For you being both a Fool and Knave are a Monster in the Rout here.
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XIII.
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Nick. Lechmere Loyalty needs still,
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And on Weather-cocks he feeds still,
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If Heathen, Turk or Jew should come, so he would change his Creed still.
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XIIII.
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There's half-witted Will. Say too,
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A right fool in the Play too,
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That would make a perfect Asse, if he could learn to Bray too.
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XV.
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Cornelius thou wert a Link-boy,
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And born tis like, in a Sink boy,
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Ide tell thy Knavery to the World, but thy Pitch sticks in my ink Boy.
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XVI.
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Baron Hill was but a Valley,
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And born scarce to an Alley,
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But now is Lord of Taunton-Deane and thousands he can Ralley.
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XVII.
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Lord Fines he will not Mall men,
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For he likes not Death of all men,
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And his Heart doth go to Pit to Pat, when to Battle he should call men.
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XVIII.
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Perfidious Whitlock Ever,
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Hath mischief under 's Beaver,
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And for his ends will put the World into a burning Feavour.
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XIX.
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Ashley Cowper knew a Reason,
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That Treachery was in Season,
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When at the first he turn'd his coat from Loyalty to Treason.
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XX.
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And gouty Master Wallop,
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Now thinks he hath the Ballop,
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But though he trotted to the Rump, hee'l run away a Gallop.
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XXI.
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There's Carew Rawleigh by him,
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All good Men do defie him,
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And they that think him not a Knave, I wish they would but try him.
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XXII.
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Luke Robinson that Clownado,
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Though his heart be a Granado,
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Yet a High-Shooe with his hands in's Poke, is his most perfect shadow.
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XXIII.
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Soloway with Tobacco,
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Inspired, turnd State Quacko;
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And got more by his feigned zeal, then by his What de'e Lack ho.
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XXIIII.
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But Widdrington how came you there?
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A wise man and a true there!
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You are an Athanasius among a Knavish Crew there.
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XXV.
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But Lisle is half forgotten,
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Who oft is over shotten,
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For just like Harp and Gridiron his Brains with Law do Cotten.
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XXVI.
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What Knaves are more to be vext Sirs.
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You'l here when I sing next sirs.
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For now my Muse is tir'd with this abominable Text Sirs,
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Ridentem dicere verum, Quid vetat?
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