A New Ballad.
To the Old Tune of Chevy-Chase.
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I.
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GOD prosper long this free-born Isle,
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And make to Britons known!
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To talk of Peace is scarce worth While,
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Unless 'tis Good or None.
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II.
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Tho' Taxes may by Peace abate;
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Yet what Man gains a Tester,
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If Skin be patch'd o'er broken Pate,
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Before we cure the Fester?
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III.
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We have abjur'd; then rest assur'd,
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Ye Clergy or ye Lay-men!
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That noble Act must be secur'd,
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Or-else Lord help us! Amen.
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IV.
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With each Heart's-Vein dread Europes Chain!
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Since there no Thing more true is;
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Than that, if Spain must appertain
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To Anjou, He is Lewis.
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V.
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God save the Queen, if thus they mean,
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And from old Lew defend her!
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Since Five-and-Five is no more Ten,
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Than He is our Pretender.
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VI.
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He own'd King Will: and so wou'd still,
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To gain a breathing Truce;
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Then keep his Royal-Word, until
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To break it serv'd his Use.
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VII.
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So faithless Winds decoy the Ship,
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With Promise to persist;
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Then into some cross Corner slip,
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And drive her as they list.
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VIII.
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Who first a Mouse-trap did invent,
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And baited it with Bacon;
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This mythologic Warning meant,
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Be not by fair Words taken!
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IX.
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In-vain poor Souls have flock'd in Shoals,
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If Peace shou'd Slaves decree 'em;
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To offer-up, at Quire of Pauls,
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Their needless Psalm Te-Deum.
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X.
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It was not thus in Days of old,
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As Histories repeat;
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For Men did then a Diff[']rence hold
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Vict'ry and Defeat.
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XI.
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Nor was the Secret often known,
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Thro' course of Ages past;
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The conqu'ring Side to be undone,
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The Conquer'd gain at last!
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XII.
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A Gamester, at a Hazzard-Bet,
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Wou'd think't a Bubble-Case;
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When Main is thrown and Stake is set,
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To loose it to Deux-Ace!
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XIII.
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Thus smitten Hearts feel cruel Darts,
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From a receding Eye;
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Which Parthian-like, as Love asserts,
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At-once can kill and fly.
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XIV.
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When injur'd Greeks beleagur'd Troy,
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And liv'd in Boots ten Years;
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They let the Place no Rest enjoy,
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Till burnt about their Ears.
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XV.
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Sly Proffers of tho'-wish'd-for Peace,
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With Sword in Hand, they heard;
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But scorn'd Hostilities shou'd cease,
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Till Wrongs were first repair'd.
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XVI.
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No less than Madness it was thought,
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At that wise Time-o'-day;
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To claim the Prize for which they fought,
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And then to give't away!
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XVII.
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Kind Vict'ry thus were like the Cow,
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Which crumps her Back and Tail;
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And, after yielding Milk enough,
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Frisks-round and spills the Pail.
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XVIII.
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Then, this Dispute to reconcile,
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Let's end where we begun;
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Nor talk of Peace as worth the While,
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Except 'tis Good or None.
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XIX.
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And so God bless our Gracious Queen!
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And may our Pray'rs ne'er cease;
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That his great Hand wou'd intervene,
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Be it a War or Peace!
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