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EBBA 36826

British Library - C.38.i.25
Ballad XSLT Template
York and Albany's Wel-
come to ENGLAND.
OR,
The Loyal Subjects Joy for his most Miraculous Deliverance.
To a New Play-House Tune, much in request.

(1)
NOw, now the Duke is safe return'd,
in spight of all the Whigs,
May they be dam'd don't wish um burnd
that slit him cross the Legs:
May he be pox'd, and plagu'd, and dam'd
that will not drink his Health,
And cry God bless the King and Duke,
and Damn a Common-wealth.

(2)
And that this Health be not prophan'd,
come Boys fill us a Bumper,
And may his blood for e're be stain'd,
that drinks the Health of a Rumper;
May Halter here, and Hell hereafter
such Vagrants portions be,
That leave the King and Duke, to drink
the Health of Shaftsbury.

(3)
Now some may think I damn too much,
but can't assign the why so;
For this I say, to answer such,
I damn but with Proviso;
So may the Vintner too be damn'd,
if he han't drawn the best;
Then here's the loyal parties Health,
a Pox of all the rest.

(4)
But here I had almost forgot
another changeing Glass;
The best in Christendom, the Health,
let no Man hang an Arse:
For he that doth not love the Duke,
he hardly loves his King;
But he that loves his King and Duke,
can't love no better thing.

(5)
Then round about come let it go,
and joyfully we'l sing;
Not fearing any Whiggish force,
we'l cry God save the King:
Rebellion shall no more inslave,
we will defie the Rout;
And drink confusion to the Knave
that lies upon the Scout.

(6)
Fanaticks all we will defie,
Whig-Parliaments we hate;
We nought can breath but loyalty
both unto Church and State.
Long live our Gracious King and Queen,
and Royal Albany;
Our joy shall more and more be seen,
whilst we abound in joy.

(7)
Then round about let each his Glass
unto the brim now fill;
To every Loyalist come pass,
and we'l be jovial still:
Great Albany of high renown,
a Prince is eke of fame;
Whom Lawrels still and Vertues crown,
and do his worth proclaim.

(8)
Come round about your Claret fill,
to Bacchus we will quaff;
Though factious Whigs they repine still,
we'l drink our Wine and laugh,
And cry long live the King and Duke,
in spight of all their foes;
And Heaven the Factious Rout rebuke,
that would procure their woes.


Printed for J. Jordan, at the Angel in Guiltspur-street.

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