EBBA 36946
British Library - 807.g.5
Ballad XSLT Template
A New Song, to the Tune of, the Gra-
nadeers March.
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COme my Lads let's March away
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let Drums beat and Pipers play
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I think't a twelve-month every day
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Till the Rebels are Confounded
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Their projects now we will defeat
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were their force Ten times as great
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Arm'd with justice we'l them fight
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tho with the fiends surrounded.
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We'l drown Argile in the raging Sea
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Bring Rampant Monmouth to his Knee
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and Cuckold Grey to the Triple tree
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with a number of Lay Elders
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We'l dress the whole Phanatick Crew
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some we'l Roast and some we'l stew
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but the best will make the Devil spew,
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Ile hold a hundred Guilders.
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Methinks I see them trembling stand
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gazing towards the Irish Land
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expecting every hour a band
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of hearty Loyal Fellowes
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But faith we'l quickly make them know
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we value not so mean a Foe
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we've never a boy shall strike a blow
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but a Traytors death shall follow
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We now resolve t'extirpate all
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every Root and Branch shall fall
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that dos but smell Phanaticall
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We'l have no more this trouble
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Since we have been so oft abus'd
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the Devil a Rogue shall be Excus'd
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with Tales we'l be no more amus'd
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their power's but a Bubble.
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