A TURN-COAT of the TIMES.
Who doth by Experience, Profess and Protest,
That of all professions a Turn-Coats the best.
To a pleasant Tune much in Request.
|
AS I was a walking through,
|
Hide-Park, as I us'd to do,
|
some two or three Months ago,
|
I laid me along,
|
Without any fear or wrong,
|
And listen'd unto a song:
|
It came from a Powder'd thing,
|
As fine as a Load or a King,
|
He knew not that I,
|
Was got so nigh,
|
And thus began to sing.
|
I am a turn-coat Knave,
|
Altho i do bear it brave,
|
And do not shew all I have:
|
I can with Tongue and Pen,
|
Court every sort of Men,
|
And kill 'em fast again,
|
With Zealots i can pray,
|
With Cavilers i can play,
|
With Shop-keepers I,
|
Can Cogue and Lye,
|
And Cozen as fast as they.
|
When first the Wars began,
|
And Prentices led the Van,
|
I that did set them on:
|
Woen they cry'd Bishops down
|
In Country, Court or Town,
|
Quoth i and have at the Crown,
|
The Covenant I did take,
|
For Forms and Fashions sake:
|
But when in would not
|
support my Plot,
|
'Twas like an old Almanack.
|
When Independency
|
Had superiorit[y],
|
I was of same Degree:
|
When Keepers did Command;
|
I then had a Holy Land,
|
Ind Deans and in Chapters Land,
|
But when i began to spy
|
Protectorship so nigh,
|
and Keeper' were
|
Thrown o're the Bar,
|
Old Oliver then cry'd i.
|
When Sectors got the Day,
|
I used my Yea and Nay,
|
To flatter them and betray,
|
In Parliament i got.
|
And there a Member sat
|
To tumble down Church and state,
|
For i was a trusty Trout,
|
In all that i went about,
|
and there we did Vow
|
To sit till now,
|
But Oliver turn'd us out.
|
We put down the House of Peers,
|
We Killed the Cavileers
|
and tipled the Widows Tears:
|
We sequested Mkns Estates,
|
and made them pay Monthly rates
|
Mo Trumpeters and their Maths;
|
Rebellion we did Print
|
and alte[r]'d all the Mint
|
No Knavery then
|
was done by Men
|
But i had a Finger in't.
|
When Charles was Aut to flight
|
Then i was at Worster fight
|
and got a Bohty by it
|
at reat most Fatal Fall
|
I kill'd and plunder'd all
|
The weakest went to the wall
|
whilst my merry Men fell on,
|
To pillageing i was gone
|
There is many thought I
|
will come by am by
|
and why should nor i be one.
|
We Triumph'd like the Turk,
|
We cripled the Scottish kirk,
|
That set us first to work:
|
When Crumwel did but frown,
|
They Yielded every Town,
|
St. Andrews Cross went down:
|
But when old Nol did dye,
|
And Richard his son put by,
|
I knew not how
|
To guide my Plow.
|
Where now shall I be? thought I.
|
I must confess the Rump,
|
Did put me in a Dump,
|
I knew not what would be a Trump,
|
When Dick had lost the Day,
|
My Game was at a stay,
|
I could not tell what to play;
|
When Monk was upon that score,
|
I thought I could play no more,
|
I did not think what
|
He would be at,
|
I ne'er was so Mumpt before.
|
But now I am at Court,
|
with Men of better sort,
|
To purehase a good report;
|
I have the Eyes and Ears
|
Of many brave noble Peers,
|
And frighted the Cavilers,
|
Poor Knaves they knew not how
|
To flatter cring and Bow,
|
For he that is wise,
|
And means to rise,
|
He must be a Turn-Coat too.
|
|
|
|
|
|