Scotlands Good Wishes to His Royal Highness: OR, The Whigs Malice Discovered and Defeated. Being a most pleasant New Song, to a New Tune,
|
JOckey away Man, Dee'l have me by the Luggs,
|
E're I will stay man, to be such a Rogue;
|
By my Bonnet Sawny, do'st thou not see,
|
How the false Loons at Forty-One wou'd be?
|
They wou'd Venture, Banter, Ranter,
|
both the New Whigg, and Old Covenanter;
|
Division, Misprision, Sedition,
|
They've wrapp'd up in the Association.
|
(2)
|
But now at length we've got the removing on't,
|
Into a Test we've turned the Covenant;
|
Muckle Dee'l have the Loons is my pray'r,
|
E're they bereave us of our right Lawful Heir:
|
For Scotland's Royal, Loyal, Joyal,
|
Jemmys our joy, the Whigs we defie all:
|
We mighted him, righted him,
|
When England slighted him,
|
Tan ta ra ra ra Boys, now we'l delight in him.
|
(3)
|
What a muckle stir have the Loons been making?
|
Nay, in geud faith, they have been a raking
|
Into the Embers of old Sedition,
|
To light Solemn League with New Petition:
|
But yet Great Jemmy shall be, will be
|
Happy in spight of whate're they still do:
|
Though Whigs hate him,
|
Slight him, spight him,
|
Tan ta ra ra ra Boys, and we'l delight him.
|
(4)
|
He is a Prince that's Royaly descended,
|
Whom the kind Heavens have so long befriended;
|
Though of late the politick Faction
|
'Bout him have studyed to raise a Distraction:
|
He'l defie all, is Royal, Loyal,
|
And next our geud King, in him we'l joy all,
|
Might him, right him, shou'd England slight him,
|
Tan ta ra ra ra Boys, and we'l delight him.
|
(5)
|
He is a Souldier that is far Renowned,
|
And has with Victory full oft been Crowned;
|
Whenas the Man with the Tap in's side,
|
At Worster did bluster, and yet his Head did hide:
|
Though he's zealous, jealous rebellious,
|
And Prince of Whiggland, as some do tell us,
|
Yet the brave Albany, will be, shall be
|
Famous, when Faction shall not at all be.
|
(6)
|
Full well we see what they wou'd be doing,
|
And what mischief the Loon Whiggs are sowing;
|
Muckle Dee'l take them e're they reap it,
|
And burn the solemn League with those that keep it,
|
And they that love it, move it, prove it,
|
For now we'l be loyal, and strive to remove it;
|
In spight of their Railing,
|
Assailing, Cabaling,
|
Tan ta ra ra ra Boys, we will delight him.
|
(7)
|
For Jemmy has settled the Scottish Nation,
|
A Prince brave and wise, not rul'd by passion;
|
Though Whigs that strive to raise discontent,
|
Make him the Quarrel to give Rebellion vent;
|
Yet we joy all, are loyal, defie all,
|
Dare them to put their deeds to a Tryal;
|
For we'l might him,
|
Right him, bright him,
|
Tan ta ra ra ra Boys, and we'l delight him.
|
(8)
|
In spight of Whig-Feasts made to oppose him,
|
Who with loud Rabble strive to out-noise him;
|
Great Jemmy shall prosper muckle well,
|
In spight of the Factious his Vertue does excell:
|
The more they hate him, spight him, slight him,
|
The more loyal subjects strive for to right him:
|
Expressing, Confessing
|
Their joy for the Blessing,
|
Tan ta ra ra ra boys, and we'l delight him.
|
|
|
|
|
|