« السابقةمتابعة »
Never was any king endow'd
Villain compleat in parson's gown,
For stealing Ormond and the crowa! Since loyalty
does no man good, Let's fteal the king, and out-do Blood.
(Members by name you must not mention) He keeps in pay, and buys their votes,
Here with a place, there with a pension : When to give money, he can't cologue 'em, He does, with scorn, prerogue, prorogue 'em,
X. But they, long fince, by too much giving,
Undid, betray'd, and sold the nation, Making their memberships a living
Better than e'er was sequestration.
Tho? victories were Cæsar's glory;
Malicious fate does oft devise
To have been fov'reign of the deep,
Had not his highness gone to sleep:
Tho' we paid dear for that delign;
The Dutch fleet there, Charles, had bçen Tho' the false Dane agreed to fell 'em, He cheated us, and faved Skellum.
By Bergen-baffle grown more wise ;
By their rich Smyrna ficet's surprize:
XV. Mifs, ftorms, short victuals, adverse winds,
And once the navy's wise division, Defeated Charles's belt designs,
"Till he became his foes derifion : But he had fwing’d the Dutch at Chatham, Had he had ships but to come at’em.
(Rais’d, put on board, why? no man knows) Muft Charles have render'd absolute
Over his subjects, or his foes ;
To make the French of Holland masters is Was't Carewell, brother James, or Teague, That made thee break the Triple League
XVIII, Could Robin Viner have foreseen
The glorius triumphs of his master, The Wool-church statue gold had been,
Which now is made of alabaster :
But wise men think, bad it been wood,
Do of it diverfly discourse;
Others their judgment on the horse:
Freeman of London Charles is made ;
Which was bestow'd on the French jade * : But wonder not it should be fo, firs, When monarchs rank themselves with Grocers.
Leave off your feasting and fine speeches; Beat up your drums, fhut up your shops,
The courtiers then will kiss your breeches. Arm'd, tell the popish duke that rules, You're free-born subjects, not French mules.
# The duchess of Portsmouth.
XXII. New upftarts, bastards, pimps, and whores,
That, locuft-like, devour the land,
When there our money was trapann's,
Who to thy government gives laws
You must again both to Breda ;
Cries loud of vengeance unto Heav'n,
Can never be by God forgiv'n: Whofe scourge unto his subjects, lord ! Than peft'lence, famine, fire, or sword.
The scourge of Europe, and its curse,
And studies how to make them worse ;