The Worcester-shire Ballad:
OR,
A faithfull Relation
(Worth your Observation)
Of the Peregrination,
And Kind Acceptation,
Of some Men in high Station,
Who travail'd from London to Worster Citty,
And what they came for, you will find in the Ditty.
To a pleasant new Tune.
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COme honest Neighbours and listen a while,
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I'le tell you a Tale shall make you all Smile,
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A Tale that is Simple and true,
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Of Great ones come here
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As big as Bug-Beare,
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Not Guilty and Coventry Blew:
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And how they were Routed,
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How Laught at and Flouted,
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And how we spoyled the Court-Plot;
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And how when Defeated
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They poorly Retreated,
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Ne're appearing upon the Spot.
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With Great Mighty Forces,
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Hackney-Coach and Six Horses,
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They came from London Town,
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And all that long way,
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Both by Night and by Day,
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They sadly did run us down.
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When they drew near the Citty,
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Old Crump and young Twitty
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Rid out to meet the Coach,
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The Colledge Bell rung,
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And the Beggars did throng,
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To grace their Lordships approach.
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'Tis not to be express'd,
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How over-joy'd and Bless'd
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They were at this appearing;
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But the Maior hung a Tale,
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Others would not leave their Ale
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To give their Lordships a hearing.
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Next day the Town was full
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Of the Right Worshipfull,
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But none of the lower Quarter
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Were by these great Dons
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And two or three Sir Johns,
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Thought worthy the Whistling after.
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The Second Part to the same Tune.
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TO these a Preachment was made
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In hopes to perswade,
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But in vain, as appears by the Story;
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For it was observ'd
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He spake not a word
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Of Popery or of Tory.
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He mentioned not the Gunpowder-Treason;
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The Irish Massacre (nor as he had reason)
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The late Beheaded Lord Stafford,
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Nor his Countrey-man Bonner,
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For Not Guilty upon my Honour
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No such Discourses could afford.
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Nor spoke he of the Burning of London to Embers,
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But only of choosing hopeful New Members
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To the Oxford Parliament;
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He Farts and he Flusters,
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He Belches and Blusters,
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You might follow him by the Scent.
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But finding his Oration
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Had very little Perswasion,
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He offered Two Hundred Pound
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To Gallant Old Sam
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Or any other Man,
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That would run Tom Foley a-ground.
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But most men did think
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He had not so much Chink,
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Nor could pay for the Poll of the County,
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And therefore did fear
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It would cost them too dear
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Should they accept of his Bounty.
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Besides our Free-holder
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Is Braver and Bolder,
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Than so to be Bought and Sold;
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They'l never choose a Man,
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Do their Honours what they can,
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That will sell his Countrey for Gold.
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Nor are their Heads so hollow,
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Or their Wits so shallow,
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But that they soon smoak't the Intention,
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to have such Men
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As would sell them agen
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For Popery and for Pension.
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A Nanfan, A Foley, A Nanfan, A Foley,
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Shall have our Votes Soly,
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Two English-men Trusty and True,
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all Court Designers
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And Countrey Underminers,
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Not Guilty and Coventry Blew.
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