Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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ID |
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Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
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A34034
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Mock poem, or, Whiggs supplication; Whiggs supplication
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Colvil, Samuel.
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1681
(1681)
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Wing C5426; ESTC R12941
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48,859
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190
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War or State But was by twenty aimed at Whereof ninteen were disappointed Which made the Body whole disjoynted And rais'd among them such divisions That they were to their friends derisions Some aim'd at the Embroidered Purse Some the Finances to deburse And other some thought to be getters By writing of the Privy Letters Some aim'd at Privy Seal or Rolls Some Customs gathered in and Tolls Some did dry Quarterings enforce Some lodg'd in Pockets Foot and Horse Yet still Bogg-sclented when they yoaked For all the Garrison in their Pocket And some made men Morgage their Lands To lend Money on publick Bands To be pay'd at the Resurrection Some Fines pay'd who oppos'd defection Some sold the Souldiers Mity Meal And some did from the Publick steal And some as every body says Us'd more then other twenty ways Yet notwithstanding of all that They were lean Kine devouring fat None gained by those bloody fairds But two three Beggers who turn'd Lairds Who stealing publick Geese and Wedders Were fred by rendering Skin and Feathers When others of this Church and Nation Returns unto their former station And now for all their stomacks stout Comes home more fools then they went out Thou like a Fire-brand dost advise Us to be fools when all are wise Thy endeavours are all in vain Ere we shall play such pranks again The Patagons shall Masses mumble The Dons of Spain shall all be humble Italians shall speak as they think Germains when Sun 's set shall not drink Swedds gaining day shall not pile Baggage And English hate shall Beef and Cabbage The Russ and Pole shall never jarr Danes shall gain by a Sweddish War Victorious Turk shall stand to reason Scots shall be beat and not blame treason The Dutch shall Brandie slight and Butter And England Conquer by De Ruyttek The first burnt ardor of French hearts Shall not turn to a rack of farts And they shall spell as they do speak And they shall sing as they do prick With Oaths they shall not lard their Speeches Nor change the fashion of their Breeches All shall have for assured news That Pope from Rome have banish'd Stews Rebellion shall return from Hell And do things which I will not tell Though it were true as some compares Our Bishops unto baiting Bears Who if they be not keept in aw They will tear all with Teeth and Paw Yet many utterly mislikes That Butcher Presbyterian tycks Should flee upon their throats and faces To curb their Lordships and their Graces His Majesty without all doubt Should only Ring them in the Snout If they so swell that none can bide Their malice avarice and pride Vices which all the world doth ken Familiar to Clergy-men Of which though palliat with art Our own Presbytry had their part Our duty is with all submission To press the grant of our Petition The King will suffer us perchance As Lewis doth Huggonots in France And in his Wars Civil and Forraign Make me Command in Chief like Turrain And though he grant not our demands Away with Covenants and Bands Kings must command we must obey They Rebels are who truth gain-say Some tell we must the truth so love As of it not to quite a hoove As said another fool thy marrow As if his Majesty were Pharo For my part ere I trouble peace I 'le Bishops call My Lord and Grace And kneel at the Communion Table Make Christmas-Feasts if I be able Privat Sacraments I 'le avow Childrens confirming I 'le allow And I will hear the Organs play And Amen to the Service say I 'le Surplice wear and High-sleev'd Gown And to the Altar I 'le bow down Yea ere his Majesty be wroth I 'le Primat be and Chancellor both Squire The Squire replyed in a chaff He girn'd so that he seem'd to laff And when ye travel in Carosses Ye will salute the Hie-way Crosses And when with danger ye are prest Ye will cross sign fore-head and breast And ye will to our Lady pray And travel on the Sabbath day And ye will play with Lords and Lairds All Sermon time at Dice and Cards And Duels fight like those of France And drunk and Creeple lead a dance And ye will venture Ax and Rope By writing Letters to the Pope To tell him though ye here by Haman Ye worship with the King like Naman And then accuse us all of Treason When ye put out your Book of Season Knight The Knight look'd fiercely then about Thus thundering with a dreadful shout Constant madness thy Brains inthrals Thou hast no Lucid Intervalls Thy Waspish Tongue will never fail To prat to scold revile and rail Though men should bray thee all to Powder Thou still Theristes plays the louder All honest and unbyass'd ken Those whom thou means't were worthy men They had some faults though not so big As rotten Flees to spoil a Pigg Of Ointment sooner it is known We others faults see then our own Presbyterian never one Faultless at them could cast a stone It 's certain it comes from the Devil To hide men's good and tell their evil They never learned that of Paul Or David when he mourn'd for Saul Thou art a Cocks-comb void of reason To tell me of a Book of Season Thou learnd'st when thou kept Sheep Hogs With one Stone for to hit two Dogs Though thou spue Venom like a Toad That Book is much esteem'd abroad Squire The Squire replyed many deem Beyond Sea it is in esteem When once it passed Pentland Firth It rais'd among them such a mirth That some for laughter burst their Rheens And other some did split their Spleens They cherish'd it in every School To be their Bibliotheca's fool When serious reading health did spill That they might read and laugh their fill Physicians it prescrib'd to men As Cure approved for the Spleen At Publick Meetings and at Feasts It was the Topicks of their Jests Some say since known all his life To have had with the Bishops strife Since for the Covenant none more wood To make three Nations swim in blood Since he spar'd none whom he could reach Who ' gainst the Engagement did not Preach Since to the Cause he stuck so fast Since Bishops was restor'd at last That in the Pulpit he did grant A Bishop was the Devils plant Giving to all his hearers leave If ever he turn'd to call him Knave And since as every body says He chang'd in less then twenty days It 's very like at others budding He turn'd his Coat for Cake and Pudding Some say he is a sounding Brass Which signifies a pratling Ass He brings no reason which can bind But only fights against the wind It 's clear that it doth with him fare As with Sampson without his Hair Before his change his Wit was tough And he could reason well enough But now he kytheth like a fool As one would whipp a Boy at School To vent in Print so little reason And call it an Advice in