THE
LOYAL SCOT
An Excellent New Song.
To a Pleasant New Scotch Tune.
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I.
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BRead of Geud! I think the Nation's mad,
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And nene but Knaves and perjur'd Loons do rule the Rost;
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And for an honest Karl ne living's to be had,
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Why sure the Deel is landed on the English Coast.
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I ha' ne'r been here sin' Forty Three,
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And now thro' Scotland gang, to'l see our Gracious KING;
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But, wunds of Geud! instead of Mirth and Merry-glee,
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I find aud sniv'ling Presbyter is coming in.
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II.
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For they talk of horrid Popish-Plots, and Heav'n knows what,
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When all the wiser World knows well what they'd be at;
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For with sike like seeming Sanctity the geudest KING
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They did to Death and Ruine bring.
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When on the Civil-Broils they first did enter in,
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(As well ye ken) with Popery they did begin:
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And with Liberty and Publick Geud was muckle din,
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When the Deel a bit they meant the Thing.
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III.
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That Machine of monstrous Policy,
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Ise mean old S---------y, for Loyalty so fam'd:
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The voice of au the Geudly Rabble Mobile,
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The fausest Loon that ever Envy destin'd Damn'd.
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Heav'n sure never meant so fau a thing,
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But to inform th[e] World where Villainy did dwell:
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And like a Tray[t]or beuth to Commonwealth and KING
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The muckl[e] Deel did surely never hatch in Hell.
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IV.
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For, like Roman Cataline, to gain his Pious Ends,
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He [p]imps for au the loose Rebellious Fops in Toon:
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And with Treats and Treason daily crams his City-Friends,
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From the Link-man to the Scarlet-Goon.
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And with high Debauchery they carry on the CAUSE,
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And Geudly Reformation is the Sham-pretence:
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And Religiously defie Divine and Humane Laws,
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With Obedience to their Rightful Prince.
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V.
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Then, as SPEAKER to this Grand Cabal,
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Old Envy Toney, seated at the head o'th' Board,
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His learn'd Oration for Rebellion makes to All,
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Applauded and approv'd by ev'ry Factious LORD.
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Cully JEMMY then they vote for KING,
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Whom Curse confound for being sike a senseless Loon:
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Can they who did their Lawful Lord to th' Scaffold bring
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Be just to Him, that has no Title to the Croon?
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VI.
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But they find he's a Blockhead fitted for their Use,
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A FOOL by Nature, and a KNAVE by Custom grown
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A Gay Fop-Monarch, whom the Rabble may abuse,
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And, their buis'ness done, will soon Unthrone.
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But Jemmy swears and vows, gan he can get the Croon,
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He by the Laws of Forty Ene will guided be:
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And Prophane Lawn-sleeves and Surplices again must doon,
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Then hey for aud PRESBYTERY.
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VII.
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B------m a States-man would be thought,
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And reason geud that he should bear that Rev'rend Na[me;]
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Since he was ene of them that first began the PLOT,
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How he the King might Banter, and Three Kingdoms Sha[m.]
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Au the Male-Contents His Noble Grace
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To this Rehearsal did invite, to hear and see:
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But whil'st he wittily contriv'd it but a Farce,
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The busier Noddles turn'd it into Tragedy.
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VIII.
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And now each Actor does begin to play his Part,
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And too so well he cons his Geer, and takes his Cue,
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Till they learn to play the Rebel so by rote of heart,
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That the Fictitious Story seems as True.
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And now, without controll, they apprehend and hang,
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And with the Nation au is Gospel that they swear:
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Then, bonny Jockey, prithee back to'l Scotland gang,
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For a Loyal Lad's in danger here.
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