RYOT upon RYO OR, A Chant upon the Arresting the Loyal L. Mayor & Sheriffs: Gallants, If you wou'd hear a Tale sung o'r, So daring and bold, 'twas never done before: See London's Loyal Sheriffs, and Lord Mayor, Bearing the Sword, Arrested in the Chair. To the Tune of, Burton Hall, or London's Loyalty.
|
I.
|
ROwze up Great MONARCH
|
In the Royal Cause;
|
The Great Defender
|
Of our Faith and Laws:
|
Now, now, or never,
|
Crush the Serpent's Head,
|
Or else the Poyson
|
Through the Land will spread.
|
The Noble MAYOR,
|
And his two Loyal SHRIEVES,
|
Bearing the Sword's, assaulted
|
By Usurping Thieves,
|
Who their Rebellious Ryots
|
Would maintain by Law:
|
Oh! London! London!
|
Where's Thy Justice now?
|
II.
|
Smite, smite, the Snakes
|
Did first their Sting reveal,
|
Stabbing thy ROYAL
|
BROTHER in the Heel;
|
And struck so many
|
Loyal Martyr's dead,
|
Now in the Sun
|
Flies boldly at the Head.
|
Slaves that resist
|
All Power but their own;
|
He that would usurp the CHAIR,
|
Would next usurp the THRONE,
|
Who neither ROYAL HEIR
|
Nor LOYAL MAYORS allow:
|
Oh! London! London!
|
Where's thy Charter now?
|
III.
|
LONDON, of Faction's
|
The eternal Spring,
|
Yet so much favour'd
|
By a Gracious KING;
|
Who dost such Deeds
|
That have no parallel,
|
Only to teach
|
Thy Children to Rebel.
|
This will record thee
|
In the Books of Fame;
|
This bold Attempt no Law,
|
Nor Precedent can claim:
|
Blood and the Crown, P---n
|
And D---s out-do:
|
Oh! London! London!
|
Where's Thy Charter now?
|
IV.
|
Was this the way
|
Your Ryots to repair;
|
In spight o'th CHARTER.
|
To Arrest the MAYOR?
|
And 'gainst the SHERIFFS
|
Your sham Actions bring,
|
'Cause justly chosen,
|
And approv'd by th' KING?
|
What call you this, but TREASON?
|
Whilst the Fool
|
That did Arrest the MAYOR
|
Expects himself to Rule;
|
And, save his own, no other
|
Power would allow:
|
Oh! London! London!
|
Where's thy Charter now?
|
V.
|
Hang up the Factious Heads
|
That dare oppose
|
The Sword of Justice,
|
And the Ancient Laws:
|
Who in his Office
|
Dare Arrest the MAYOR,
|
Disowns the Pow'r
|
That plac'd Him in the Chair.
|
Tantara-ra-ra!
|
Let the Trumpets sound,
|
Double all your Guards, and let
|
The Cent'nels stand their ground:
|
He that Arrests the MAYOR,
|
Would bind the MONARCH too:
|
Oh! London! London!
|
Where's Thy Charter now?
|
|
|
|
|
|