FORTUNATE RISING, OR THE RUMP UPWARD.
|
Good People, and you, that have been undone
|
By Guns, and Drums, and the Trumpet's tone,
|
And new hard Words since Forty and One,
|
Which nobody can deny.
|
Here is a word, that will plague you more
|
Then any, that ever went before,
|
'Tis The Rump of Harry Martins Whore,
|
Which, etc.
|
The Cause was at first a pretty conceit
|
To create a durty Rebel great;
|
But now that has left th' imperial Seat,
|
Which, etc.
|
A General was a glorious Name,
|
Till Essex his Member spoil't it's Fame;
|
For a Souldier ought to be good at the Game,
|
Which, etc.
|
The Communication Line was a Jigge,
|
And as good as the Bath to make women bigge,
|
Who never were so, till they learnt to Digge,
|
Which, etc.
|
Artillery was a thundring word,
|
Where many appear'd with Musket and Sword
|
To fright poor Atkins out of a Turd,
|
Which, etc.
|
Cavalier was a name of as great a Force,
|
As Centaure, that is both Man and Horse,
|
And for Ravishing suffered many a curse,
|
Which, etc.
|
Yet every woman, that had this fear,
|
Although in her heart a Roundhead she were,
|
In her belly she wisht a Cavalier,
|
Which, etc.
|
Sequestration scar'd men out of their Plate,
|
Excise drew potent Ale out of date,
|
And the Corps de Garde broke many a pate,
|
Which, etc.
|
The Plunderers made men hide their money,
|
And women their jewels, if they had any;
|
And one there was, hid gold in her Cunny,
|
Which, etc.
|
A Commonwealth is a Citizens trust,
|
And by his wife ador'd it must,
|
As a Topique to prove adultery just,
|
Which, etc.
|
The Protector storm'd at all mankind,
|
Made Kings, and Princes walk behind,
|
Till the Divel out-ranted him in a wind,
|
Which, etc.
|
The Committee of Safety threw the Dye;
|
But somebody spit in his face from on high,
|
And made the valiant Fleetwood cry,
|
Which, etc.
|
But the RUMP is a word of such a power,
|
Pronounc'd, your Beer, like Thunder, twill sowr,
|
And after making you squitter an howr,
|
Which, etc.
|
The Squirting at EPSOM'S not worth a louse,
|
RUMP outdoes all, that come there to carouse;
|
For it shit from Portsmouth to Wallingford House,
|
Which, etc.
|
If Booth were no Knave, a Fool let him be,
|
To keep such a stir for Liberty,
|
When the Rump sets all it's Tenant Free,
|
Which nobody, etc.
|
He that could imitate sounds in a Fart,
|
And speak from behind with a wondrous Art,
|
Were the living now, should take Lenthals part,
|
Which no, etc.
|
And then a Fart for the City forces,
|
For Monk, that's comming with all his Horses,
|
And a T--- for Fairfax too, that worse is,
|
Which, etc.
|
A Parson once in a Frolick Divine
|
Exhausted Glasies twenty and nine,
|
For Turkey's Rump in Canary Wine,
|
Which, etc.
|
And sure he receiv'd a Revelation,
|
When to Preach he left his first Vocation,
|
That a Rump in time should rule the Nation,
|
Which, etc.
|
Montelion's Dialls a droling Mock,
|
With a stick in the Country fellows Dock,
|
And fitter now then the Pallace Clock,
|
Which, etc.
|
Morlay, a joynt of the Rump, grew Big,
|
And swelling; but politique Hasilrigge,
|
Ha's sent him for Physick to Doctor Trigge,
|
Which, etc.
|
Mad Vane was Anointed King, and said,
|
He receiv'd a Crown that burden'd his Head,
|
For which the Rump sent him home to Bed,
|
Which, etc,
|
The Abjuring Oath made the Speaker Sick,
|
Which Hasilrigge taking in the Nick,
|
For his fain'd one show'd him a real Trick,
|
Which, etc.
|
Thus, what for aliment is unfit,
|
The Tayle by a vertue guiding it,
|
Excludes, and leaves it self beshit,
|
Which, etc.
|
Let no Man then pretend any Cause,
|
Against the Rump to open his Jawes,
|
For it Rules by the Fundamental Laws,
|
Which nobody can deny.
|
|
|
|
|
|