ADVICE to the CITY:
Sung to the KING at Windsor, to a Theorbo.
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REmember ye Whiggs what was formerly done,
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Remember your mischiefs in Forty and One;
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When friend oppos'd friend, and Father the Son,
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Then, then your Old Cause went rarely on:
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The Cap sat aloft, and low was the Crown,
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The Rabble got up and the Nobles went down;
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Lay Elders in Tubs, rul'd Bishops in Robes,
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Who mourn'd the sad fate
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And dreadful disaster, of their Royal Master
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By Rebels betraid.
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CHORUS.
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Then London be wise and baffle their power,
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And let 'em play the Old Game no more;
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Hang, hang up the Sh------
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Those Baboons in power,
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Those popular Thieves,
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Those Rats of the Tower,
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Whose Canting Tales the Rabble believes;
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In a hurry
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And never sorry
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Merrily they go on:
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Fy for shame, we're too tame, since they claim
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The Combat:
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Tan tarra rarra, Tan tarra rarra,
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Dub a dub, let the Drum beat,
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The strong Militia guards the Throne.
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II.
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When Faction possesses the Popular Voice,
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The Cause is supply'd still with Nonsence and Noise;
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And Tony their Speaker the Rabble leads on,
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For he knows if we prosper that he must run;
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Carolina must be his Station of ease,
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And London be rid of her worsest disease:
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From Plots and from Spies,
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From Treasons and Lies
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We shall ever be free,
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And the Law shall be able, to punish a Rebel
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As cunning as he.
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CHORUS.
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Then London be wise and baffle their power,
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And let 'em play the Old Game no more;
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Hang, hang up the Sh------
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Those Baboons in power,
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Those popular Thieves,
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Those Rats of the Tower,
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Whose Canting Tales the Rabble believes;
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In a hurry
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And never sorry
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Merrily they go on:
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Fy for shame, we're too tame, since they claim
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The Combat:
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Tan tarra rarra, Tan tarra rarra,
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Dub a dub, let the Drum beat,
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The strong Militia guards the Throne.
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III.
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Rebellion we're wanted a Loyal pretence,
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These Villains, swear all's for the good of their Prince;
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Oppose our Elections to show what they dare,
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And losing their Charter arrest the Mayor;
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Fool Je--- was the Captain of the Cuckoldy Crew,
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With Ell--- and Jea--- and H--- the Jew;
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Fam'd sparks of the Town
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For wealth and renown,
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Give the Devil his due,
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And such as we fear, had our Soveraign bin there,
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Had arrested him too.
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CHORUS.
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Then London be wise and baffle their power,
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And let 'm play the Old Game no more;
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Hang, hang up the Sh------
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Those Baboons in power,
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Those popular Thieves,
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Those Rats of the Tower,
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Whose Canting Tales the Rabble believes;
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In a hurry
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And never sorry
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Merrily they go on:
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Fy for shame, we're too tame, since they claim
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The Combat:
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Tan tarra rarra, Tan tarra rarra,
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Dub a dub, let the Drum beat,
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The strong Militia guards the Throne.
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