The True English Prophet:
OR,
ENGLANDS Happiness
Much Sooner Than
A Hundred Years Hence.
Licensed according to Order.
To a New Playhouse Tune.
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I.
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COme cheer up your Hearts, Boys, and all hands to work,
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We'll be happy and Blest, spight of Devil and Turk;
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Our Land you must know, shall speedily flow
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With that dear Milk and Honey,
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Call'd plenty and Money
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If we would be but Loyal, and with patience dispence
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Ours would be the day before a Hundred Years hence.
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II.
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Our Grand mighty foes will be soon dead and Rotten,
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Our Grumblers all husht, their Treasons forgotten:
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The Gout, Stone, and Pox, will have then done the work
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Of Europes Old Blood-hound
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The most Christian Turk:
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Peace, Blessing, and plenty their smiles will dispence,
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And all long before a Hundred Years hence.
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III.
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The sneaking old Miser, that hoards up hir Store,
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And daily exclaims that these times make him poor,
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By his Dung shall be choak'd, and his coyn it shall fly
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To Enrich those poor Subjects
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Of known Loyalty
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And then we shall role in mill'd Crowns, Shillings, pence.
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And all long before a Hundred Years hence.
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IV.
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And what tho thus long we mourn'd the sad wants
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Of a Glass of Good Bourdeaux, and a Cup of fine Nants,
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We soon will have Wine, and Brandy most certain,
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A Quart for a Shilling,
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And Two pence a Quartern;
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Proud Monsieur that favour wall be forc'd to dispence.
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Much sooner indeed than a hundred Years hence
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V.
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The expences of Warr we soon will regain
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And fetch Back our Coyn tho' its over the Main;
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Whilst Monsiurs devices and all his deceit
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Like our late English Clippers
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Shall meet a Defeat
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That so we may rowle in Mill'd Shillings, Crown, Pence,
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Much sooner indeed than a Hundred Years hence.
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VI.
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The Gallant at Rome pays Excise for his Whore,
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And for Coats proud Lewis his Subjects makes poor;
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Then why should we grudge a small Tribute to give
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To the Royal brave Heroe
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That our lives did retrieve
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From Fire and Faggot, that our Joys may commence,
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Much sooner indeed then a hundred years hence.
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VII.
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We Children shall get, and for their Heads we will p[ay]
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That the Bald-pated Tribe may not lead 'em astray,
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We'll turn up the Smock, and lay Girls on their Back[s]
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We'll Soldiers procure,
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And raise the Kings Tax,
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Being firmly assur'd that our Joys will commence,
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Much sooner indeed than a Hundred Years hence.
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VIII.
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The Monopolizers that Ruin our Trade
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Will all be suppressed, and none shall invade
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Our True English Rights, as in the late Reign;
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For pardons the Pope
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Our Coyn shall nere Drain
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Our Farmers and Weavers new joys shall commence,
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And all long before a Hundred Years hence
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IX.
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Our Cathedral St Paul that Rome dos annoy
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In Glory any Splender shall Peters outvie
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Our Orphans be rich, and all swim in delights
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Altho at the present
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We pay for our Lights;
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Great WILLIAM secure us in the present Tense
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That we may'nt be Bug-beard a Hundred Years hence.
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X.
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Thus certain of Plenty, let's freely agree,
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To pay our Great Caesar our Hand, Heart, and Kn[ee]
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The Heroe whose Sword for our Liberty draws,
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Who faces Bloud, Danger,
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And Death in our Cause.
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Some few Months, we hope, will his warm Beams d[ispence]
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And our Heirs Bless his Name a Hundred Years Hence
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