My loyal subjects, who in this bad season Next at the clergy do their furies frown, They will destroy the crosier and the crown. Churchmen are chain'd, and schismaticks are freed, The church of England doth all factions foster, The Presbyter and Independent seed Springs with broad blades. To make religion bleed 35 Herod and Pontius Pilate are agreed. The corner stone's misplac'd by every pavier: My royal consort, from whose fruitful womb Great Britain's heir is forced into France, 40 45 With my own power my majesty they wound, With propositions daily they enchant My people's ears, such as do reason daunt, They promise to erect my royal stem, But for refusal they devour my thrones, My life they prize at such a slender rate, Felons obtain more privilege than I, They are allow'd to answer ere they die; "Tis death for me to ask the reason, why. 50 55 60 But, sacred Saviour, with thy words I woo 65 Such, as thou know'st do not know what they do. For since they from their lord are so disjointed, Augment my patience, nullifie my hate, Yet, though we perish, BLESS THIS CHURCH and STATE. 70 XIV. THE SALE OF REBELLIOUS HOUSHOLDSTUFF. This sarcastic exultation of triumphant loyalty, is printed from an old blackletter copy in the Pepys collection, corrected by two others, one of which is preserved in A choice collection of 120 loyal songs, &c.' 1684, 12mo.-To the tune of Old Simon the king. REBELLION hath broken up house, And hath left me old lumber to sell; Will you buy any bacon-flitches, 5 10 They're the sides of the old committees, Here's a pair of bellows, and tongs, And for a small matter I'll sell ye 'um; 15 They are made of the presbyters lungs, To blow up the coals of rebellion. I had thought to have given them once They are consecrate to the church: 20 And the little pipes to squeeke higher, Here's a couple of stools for sale, Of the RUMP fell down to the ground. Here's the beesom of Reformation, Which should have made clean the floor, Will you buy the states spinning-wheel, But better it had stood still, For now it has spun a fair thread. Says old Simon, &c. Here's a glyster-pipe well try'd, Which was made of a butcher's stump,1 And has been safely apply'd, To cure the colds of the rump. Here's a lump of Pilgrims-Salve, But now it is come to this. Says old Simon, &c. peace, 1 Alluding probably to Major-General Harrison a butcher's son, who assisted Cromwell in turning out the long parliament, April 20, 1653. Here's a roll of the states tobacco, If any good fellow will take it; And I'll tell you how they did make it: Yet the ashes may happily serve To cure the scab of the nation, Will you buy the RUMP's great saddle, With which it jocky'd the nation? And here is the bitt, and the bridle, And curb of Dissimulation: And here's the trunk-hose of the RUMP, And their fair dissembling cloak, And a Presbyterian jump, With an Independent smock. Will you buy a Conscience oft turn'd, But Hell will buy that if the worst is. 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 |