m Thoo whun the club men wor so thick, And about eswent among 'am, That now do zwear they'll hang 'um. Was't not enow to make men vite, When villains come by de and night, To plunder and undoe 'um, And garrizons did vet all in, And steep the country to the skin, And we zet nothing to 'um? But we had zoon a scurvy pluck, The better men the worser luck, We had knaves and fools among us; And bloody rogues to bang us. That have po grace, nor pitty, They turn me to the mittee. Like Pilate and the Jews; 'Tis not a turd to chose. And ride through weene and weather, Estraid there eight and twonty weeks, And chwor at last zo much to zeek, As when es vur'st come thither. But no zuch thing scould zee, They call'd it stumpere. And thoo ston still agen, But when they zed amen. A trick of their devizing, As if twor but zun rising. My creed and pater-poster, Than an apple's like an oyster. Or else es may go zeek; They need not bid a monthy vast, Vor if zoo be these times do last, Twool come to zeav'n a week. Es waited there a huges time, That esmed make my pease, They wood give me a release. Esgid ’um bond vor neevescore pown, Bezides what chad a paid 'um down. And thoo they made me sweare, Whun chad a reckon'd what my cost are, Es swear'd chood and zit down aloster, Vor by my troth chawr weary. Case here's no cavaliers; Cham agast they'll go by the ears. And gentlemen undoo, Now can't tell whare to go. But now by briles and stortions, A made three daters' portions. But within three days ater; Is’nt this a cozning matter! And there chowr vajn to lye, And thoo smed come away. And keep awy our king? Was ever such a thing? And if they should deny an, How can we else come by'n. And zo zet ’um gwine, Cham sore aftard of mine. And there at every meeting, 'Tis abomination cheating. We can nor eat, nor drink, nor lye We pay to knaves that couzen ; Vor fear should be a douzen. Then lets to clubs agen and vight, Or lets take it all out right; Vor thus they mean to sare, All thick be right, they'll strip and use, And deal with them as bad as Jews, All custen voke beware. So this cavalier cur was beaten full sore, And had many a knock on the pate, (more, But they serv'd him aright if they had beat him For meddling with matters of state. His commanders and members eke, That is not able to speak. Let them clear themselves if they can, For if they be susfered to be in the state, They'll conspire against horse and nuan. ON A BUTCHER'S DOG THAT BIT A COMMANDER'S MARE THAT STOOD TO BE KNIGHT OF A SHIRE. THE NEW KNIGHT ERRANT. a All you that for parliament members do stand For county, borough or city, A lamentable ditty. Nay a mastiff dog (you see), It had been full happy for we. That had been in many a slaughter, As you shall hear hereafter. 'Twill bring you to banging you know ; For if this dog had done what he did not, How had he been us'd I trow ! When they went to make their choice; In elections have a voice? And had been lucky at fighting, And therefore he fell a biting. And a worthy cominander's inare, Had they gone to fight dog, fight bear. Or some tub-preaching cur; And loy'd neither lord nor sir. And got above many a brother, To see one man above another. But it seeins the dog was but dull; As mistook a horse for a bull. And strangely, as you may perceive, And made him his biting leave. That now any body seeth; Did but only show his teeth. Of giants and knights, and their wonderful fights, We have stories enough in romances, (true, But I'll tell you one new, that is strange and yet Though t'other are nothing but fancies. Whose name he'll not have to be known; For 'tis said he had none of his own. He by fortune's design, should have been a divine, And a pillar no doubt of the church ; Whoin a sexton (God wot) in the belfry begot, And his mother did pig in the porch. And next for his breeding, 'twas learned hogfeeding, With which he so long did converse, (nature That his manners and feature, was so like their You'ld scarce know his sweetness from theirs. But observe the device of this nobleman's rise, How he hurried from trade to trade, [higher From the grains he'd aspire to the yest, and then Till at length he a drayman was made. Then his dray-horse and he, in the streets we did sce, With his hanger, his sling, and his jacket; Long time he did watch, to meet with his match, For he'd ever a mind to the placket. And Ursula was her name ; [quoth she, “ Oh Ursly,” quoth be, and “Oh Tom," then And so they began their game. But as soon as they met, O such babes they did get, And blood-royal in 'em did place, [dam, From a swineherd they came, a she-bear was their They were suckled as Romulus was. At last when the rout, with their head did fall out, And the wars thereupon did fall in, He went to the field with a sword, but no shield, Strong drink was his buckler within. But when he did 'spy, how they dropp'd down and And did hear the bullets to sing; [die, His arms he flung down, and run fairly to town, And exchang'd his sword for his slirg. Yet he claim'd bis share, in such honours as were Belonging to nobler spirits; That ventur'd their lives, while this buffoon survives To receive the reward of their merits. When the wars were all done, he his fighting begin, And would needs shew his valour in peace, Then bis fury he things, at poor conquer'd things: And frets like a hog in his grease. For his first feat of all, on a wit he did fall, A wit as some say, and some not, Because he'd an art, to rhime on the quart, But never did care for the pot. [sirs, And next on the cocks, he fell like an ox, But flesh'd with these spoils, the next of his toils, To the bearward he goeth, and then opened his mouth; And said, "Oh! are you there with your bears?" Our stories are dull, of a cock and a bull, But such was his valour and care; The crime of the bears was, they were cavaliers, Our successor of kings, like blind fortune, flings Who has as much right, to make Tom a knight, But Fortune that whore, still attended this brewer, And did all his atchievements reward; And blindly did fling, on this lubberly thing, More honour, and made him a lord. Now he walks with his spurs, and a couple of curs At his heels, which he calls squires; So when honour is thrown, on the head of a clown, 'Tis by parasites held up, and liars. The rest of his prauks, will merit new thanks, THE NEW MOUNTEBANK. Ir any body politic, Of plenty or ease be very sick, Which speak how many he cures or kills: For cure read kill, for truth read lies. If any traitor be diseased With a sore neck, and would be eased; Here's several pills from lectures pick'd, Is any by religion bound, Or law, and would be looser found; Here's opium to lull asleep, And here lie dangerous plots in steep. THE SAINT'S ENCOURAGEMENT. FIGHT on, brave soldiers, for the cause, Their threatnings are as senseless, as 'Tis you must perfect this great work, 'Tis for religion that you fight, And for the kingdom's good; Down with the orthodoxal train, All loyal subjects slay ; The clean contrary way. Of crown and power bereft him ; And none but rebels left him; And sent our trunks away, The clean contrary way. That we against him fight, Nor are we ever beaten back, Because our cause is right. Our declarations say The clean contrary way. And divers places more; The like ne'er seen before. And bravely won the day, The clean contrary way. The true religion we maintain, The kingdom's peace and plenty ; The privilege of parliament, Not known to one of twenty ; And teach men to obey The clean contrary way. By prisonment and plunder, By keeping the wicked under. To lecturise and pray; The clean contrary way. By that malignant crew, Give all of us our due. Rebellion to destroy, And good out-works together, Only for wind and weather. And all our hopes decay, The clean contrary way. a And cast away care and sorrow; a Why should we be droopers, That they can have done, Then fall to your drinking, And leave off this shrinking, These cares and disasters, Though they say they do not, A man that is armed With liquor is charmed, Our brains are the quicker, And I wish in this thing, A pox of this fighting ; I take no delighting, If we can live quiet, In fearing to die, 'Twixt Square-head and Round-head The land is confounded, Whene'er they coine to us, And in sharing of that, In swearing and lying, In cowardly flying, He's a fool and a widgeon, But when they should fight, Then while we have treasure, Let's spare for no pleasure, When we've nothing to leave 'em, We should suddenly see WRITTEN IN 1648. COME let us be merry, Drink claret and sherry, VOL VI. Xx The poor Cavaliers, thought all was their oway And those very rebels that hated the king, And no such office allow; By the help of their boldness, and one other thing. Are brought to the king to bow. And there both pardons, and honours they have, Those men are but fools, as matters now stand, If the times turn about 'tis but to comply, Then they are in a safe condition. For none are condemned but those that are dead, The fortieth part of their riches will And so they will keep above us still, But hang't, we'll ne'er repine. The devil does into their natures creep, Now Heaven preserve our merciful king, And stream from him to the city! THE SCOTS' CORANTO. WRITTEN IN 1645. COME, come away to the English wars, A fig for our hills and vallies, 'Twas we did begin, and will lengthen their jars, By invasions, Break through our bars, They can get little good by their sallies. Though Irish and English entered be, The state is become our debtor. Let them have our land, if their own may be free If they crave it Let them have it, What care we? We would fain change our land for a better. But we're hinder'd still by disasters; But now is their time, when they can't withstand, If we venture, We may enter By command, And at last we shall grow to be masters. When at the first we began to rebel, Though they did not before regard us, And returning, They pay'd us well, And royally did reward us. The better to bring our ends about, We must plead for a reformation; They will love us And approve us, If we bring in an alteration. Down with the bishops and their train, A NEW BALLAD. A BALLAD, a ballad, a new one and true, He that won't write ballads, and sing 'em too, For a man may be furnished with so much matter, To see how the times are twirled about, [gout, But to see those turn with 'em, that had the rump Would make a cat to spew. Those knaves that have lived upon sequestration, THE HOLY PEDLAR FROM a foreign shore I am not come to store Your shops with rare devices: No drugs do I bring From the Indian king, No peacocks, apes, nor spices, Such wares I do show As in England do grow, And are for the good of the nation Let no body fear To deal in my ware, For sacrilege now's in fashion. I the pedlar am, That came from Amsterdam, |