THE NOBLE ENGLISH WORTHIES.
|
TIs not Saint George we Sing of here,
|
Nor George, the fatal Duke Villier;
|
Nor George a Green, nor Castriot,
|
Nor Buchanan the learned Scot;
|
But 'tis of George the Valiant Monck,
|
That made Van-Trump in's Blood dead-drunk,
|
And in the Seas his Navy sunck.
|
Oh! this is our brave George!
|
He made the Dutch-men vale their Topps,
|
And humble be, as their Sack-slops;
|
The English Fleet he did advance,
|
To th' terrour of Proud Spain, and France;
|
And when amongst the Scots he came,
|
He did their furious Spirits tame;
|
For which ere since all love his Name.
|
Oh! this is our brave George!
|
Renown by Sea and Land he got,
|
Old Noll for him would do what not;
|
There's none ere boded him ill-will,
|
That valour had, or martial skill;
|
This is the Noble General,
|
Who fights to rescue us from thrall,
|
And that we may be Free-men all.
|
Oh! this is our brave George!
|
Such gallant Worthies are most rare;
|
Yet many more at Portsmouth are,
|
Noble Sir Arthur Haselrigg,
|
Resolves to lead a Scottish Gigg,
|
With Morley, Walton, Wallop, and
|
Renowned Whetham, whose command
|
For all our Liberties do stand,
|
As well as our brave George!
|
Sir Ashley-Cooper, Scot, and more
|
Such honest hearts there are good store;
|
The famous Lawson, and the Fleet,
|
And London Lads in every Street;
|
Who vow to make Subvertors stare
|
At Tyburne in the open air,
|
For doing what no King did dare:
|
And thus vowes our brave George!
|
The honest Souldiers, (though some be
|
sadly mis-led) resolve to see
|
The Parliament restor'd again,
|
And run away to Monck amain;
|
Who pay's them well, as well they may
|
Expect; for Lambert has no pay;
|
And thus the Newes is every day
|
In honour of brave George!
|
Hacker, and other men resolv'd
|
Deny the Members are dissolv'd,
|
Though their Apostatising Brothers
|
Pretend to be more wise than others;
|
But when their folly re-appeares,
|
And their ill-fortune, like those years
|
When NOLL steep'd all the Land in tears,
|
Then hey! for our brave George.
|
The Writs for a New Parliament,
|
Are to return the way they went;
|
For no Elections can be made,
|
In freedom, whilst the Cobling trade
|
Can Vamp, set up, or them translate;
|
And this necessity of State
|
(As wise men say) breeds all the Bate.
|
And thus sayes our brave George.
|
The noble City will be wise,
|
And their sweet Liberties dear prize;
|
Religion, Lawes, and freedom are,
|
The Stakes for which all parties dare:
|
But yet our better hopes appear,
|
Against the New approaching year,
|
We shall be quited all from fear,
|
By the help of our brave George.
|
Let them that please, sit still at ease,
|
Whilst Heaven in mercy send us peace;
|
But may our noble Worthies be
|
Succesful in their Policy;
|
That order may return again,
|
In Church and State, and right may reign,
|
And all Subvertors have their pain:
|
And God bless our brave George.
|
|
|
|
|
|