Selected quad for the lemma: religion_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
religion_n	good_a	king_n	subject_n	3,003	5	6.4581	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A62418	A choice collection of 120 loyal songs, all of them written since the two late plots, (viz.) the horrid Salamanca Plot in 1678, and the fanatical conspiracy in 1683. Intermixt with some new love songs with a table to find every song to which is added, an anagram, and an accrostick on the Salamanca doctor	Thompson, Nathaniel, d. 1687.	1684 (1684)	Wing T1004; ESTC R221730	102,676	338

Heart The Habeas Corpus Act is past And so far we are safe He can't Imprison us so fast But strait we have Relief He can't deny us ought we ask In so much need he stands And before that we do Money give We 'll tye up both his Hands The Presidents of Forty One Which were till Forty Eight Now our Presidents are grown For why they had their weight So weighty were they they cut off Our Royal Monarch's Head The self same Reason bids us now To act the self same deed And when we have a Martyr made Of another Gracious King Then all the ●aiterous Plots we 've laid We to perfection bring And to protect our Wicked Deeds Religion shall go down We●ll ●out out all the Royal Seed Pretenders to the ●ro●n Thus having Monarchy destroy'd We 'll govern by Free-will The Light of the Spirit shall be our guide Then what man can do ill Religion is the surest cloak To hide our Treachery The Rabble we 'll confine to th' yoak Pretending to set Free Therefore my Country men trust not Where Religion 's the pretence For if you do you 'll find a Plot To destroy your Innocence For those who lead you to Rebel You 'll find i' th' close to be Pure Instruments were sent from Hell To foment Treachery The Downfall of the Good Old Cause Tune Hey Boys up go We. NOw the bad Old Cause is Tapt And the Vessel standeth stoop'd The Cooper may starve for want of work For the Cask shall never be hoop●d We will burn the Association The Covenant and Vow The publick Cheat of the Nation Anthony now now now No Fanatick shall bear the sway In Court City or Town Three good Kingdoms to Betray And cry the Right Line down Let them cry They love the King Yet if they hate his Brother Remember Charles they Murdered And so they would the other Weavers and such like Fellows In Pulpit daily Pret Like the Covenanters Against the Church and State Yet they cry They love the King But their Business will discover Charles the first they Murdered And so they would the tother Where these Fellows go to Drink In City or in Town They Villify the Bishops And they cry the Stewarts down Still they cry They love the King But their Business I 'll discover Charles the first they Murdered And so they would the tother When the King wanted Money Poor Yangier to Relieve They cryed down his Revenue Not a Penny they would give Still they cry'd They love the King But their Business I 'll discover Charles the first they Murdered And so they would the tother The Noble Marquess of Worcester And many such Brave Lord By the King-killing Crew They daily are Abhor'd And call'd Evil Councello●s When the Truth they did discover And Charles the first they Murdered And so they would the tother The Papists they would kill the King But the Fanaticks did Their Perjuries and Treacheries Are not to be parallel'd Let them cry They love the King Their Faults I will discover Charles the first they Murdered And so they would the tother Charles the 2 d. stands on his Guard Like a good Politick King The Fanaticks ought to be abhor'd For all their Flattering Let them cry They love the King Their Tricks I will discover Charles the first they Murdered And so they will the tother Now let all good Subjects be That bear a Loyal heart Stand fast for the King And each man Act his part And to support his Sovereign Religion and the Laws That formerly were establish'd And down with the Cursed Cause Jack Ke●ch's new SONG or a Warning to Conspirators Tune 1. I Hang and Behead Until you be Dead O Dire Raw Head Bloody Bones Fling Members and Stones In the Fire 2. Is 't not better be merry With Claret and Sherry 'T is Reason Then to have your Soul Let out at your Poll For Treason 3. Your Brains for to puzle Like Walcot and Russel Conspiring 'T is better be Swilling Then Plund'ring and Killing And Firing 4. 'T is better to save One's Neck and be brave Or be Sotting Then have a Chop with a Hatchet Or a Halter to stretch it For Plotting 5. The Drunk and the Brave Nor Traytor nor Knave Can be ever Their Deaths he defyes But at Tilting he dies Or a Feavor 6. To be Traytor proclaim'd Describ'd and be Nam'd And Money This 't is to be Cullies To the Vilest of Bullies Old Tony. 7 To be frighted each Hour With Newgate or Tower And Trying Conviction and Sentence At Tyburn Repentance And Dying 8 Then leave Plotting and Treason To the void of all Reason And Sense Your Pardon Jack cries 'T is the Whigs I advise No Offence A SONG of the Light of the Nation turn'd into Darkness Tune called Cavalilly-man COme all you Caballers and Parliament Votes That stickl'd for hanging cutting of throats Lament the misfortune of perjur'd Otes Who first must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd What Devil suspected this 5 years agon When I was in hopes to hang up half the Town I Swore against Miler and Cursed the Crown But now must be Pillor'd and after be Hang●d I curs'd the Bishops and hang'd up the Priests I swore my self Doctor yet never could Preach But a Cant full of Blaspemy's all I could reach I first must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd Now Otes is i' th' Cupboard Manger with Colt The Caldron may boyl me for fear I should molt Here I 've ne'r a Bum for a Wheel-barrow jolt Yet now must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd My thousand Commissions and Spanish Black-Blls Invisible Armies lodg'd upon Hills Such old perjur'd Nonsence my Narrative fills That I now must be Pillor●d and after be Hang'd My twelve Pounds a Week I want to support For stinking i' ch' City and fouling the Court Like the Devil in Dungeon I 'm now hamper'd for t A first must be Pillor●d and after be Hang'd They Hang us in order the Devil knows how 'Zounds all that e●e put ●ne paw to the Plow I ne'r fear'd the Devil would fail me till now That I first must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd For calling the Duke a Papist and Traytor I often have call'd the King little better I 'm fast by the heels like a Beast in a Fetter I first must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd I swore that the Queen would Poyson the King That Wakeman had Moneys the Poyson to bring When I knew in my heart there was no such thing I now must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd I 'm Resolv'd to be Hang'd dead drunk like Hugh Peter If I can but have my Skin stuft with good Liquor Then I shall limp to old Tapskie much quicker But I first must be Pillor●d and after be hang'd A new SGNG. To the Tune of Young Jemmy 1. 'T Was a foolish fancy Jemmy To put your Trust in Tony He dipt ye all in Treason Then humbly Dy'd in Season When his Spiggot

Tryal Let the Coward Slaves flie all Leave Vengeance and Gibbets behind 'em Whilst the great Desperadoes All turn'd Renegadoes With their old Friends took napping In some Cole-hole at Wapping Shall Charles and His Justice find ' em 3. Let the malice of Fanatick Roundhead Hatch'd in Hell be still confounded The Royal Brothers no Storm e're sever But new Wonders deliver And their Heirs Reign for ever On Englands bright Throne sit till Times last Sand runs And stop their Glories Chariot with the Suns Then for Charles's second Restauration Snatch'd from the Jaws of the Imps of Damnation We with Feastings Revels will chear up our Souls For the safety of Caesar In Joy and in Pleasure Till our Hearts shall o're-flow like our Bowls For a Health to Great Charles let the Goblets be crown'd there The Huzza go round there To the Skies let it sound there Up to th' Throne of Great Charles's Protector Till the pleas'd Gods that see Boys Grow as Merry as we Boys Joyn their Spheres in the Chorus Make their whole Heav'ns out-roar us And pledge us in Bumpers of Nectar A Narrative of the Popish-Plot shewing the cunning contrivance thereof Tune Packington 's Pound The Contents of the First Part. How Sir Godfrey is kill'd his Body they hide Which brought out in Chair a Horseback does ride How Jesuits disguis'd our Houses to fire How subtly they Plot and the King's death conspire Of divers great Lords drawn in to their Bane An Irish Army and Pilgrims from Spain 1. GOod People I pray you give ear unto me A Story so strange you have never been told How the Jesuit Devil and Pope did agree Our State to destroy and Religion so old To murder our King A most horrible thing But first of Sir Godfrey his death I must sing For howe'r they disguiss't we plainly can see Who murdr'd that Knight no good Christian cou'd be The truth of my Story if any man doubt We have Witnesses ready to swear it all out 2. At Somerset house there is plain to be seen A Gate which will lead you into the back-Court This place for the Murder most sitting did seem For thither much People do freely resort His Body they toss'd From Pillar to ●ost And shifted so often t 'had like t' have been lost To which with dark-Lanthorn the Jesuits did go But no ways distrusted our honest Bedlow The truth of my Story c 3. Lest such close Contrivements at length might take air When as his dead Body corrupted did grow They quickly did find an invisible Chair And set him on Horse-back to ride at Sohoe His own Sword to th' Hilt To add to their Guilt They thrust through his Body but no blood was spilt T' have it thought he was kill'd by a Thief they did mean So they left all 's Money and made his Shoes clean The truth of my Story c. 4. To shew now th' excess of Jesuitical Rage They this Loyal City to ruine would bring ' Cause you Citizens are so religious and sage And ever much noted as true to your King T' your Houses they go With Fire and with Tow Then pilfer your Goods 't is well you ' scape so Y'have seen how they once set the Town all in flame Yet 't is their best Refuge if we believe Fame The Truth of my Story c. 5. By Bedlow's Narration is shewn you most clear How Jesuits disguss●d into Houses will creep In a Porter's or Carman's Frock they appear Nay will not disdain to cry Chimney sweep Or sell you Small Cole Then drop in some hole A Fire-Ball or thrust it up by a long Pole But I now must relate a more tragical thing How these Villains conspir'd to Murder our King The Truth of my Story c. 6. At the White-horse in April was their main Consul● Where a Writing these Plotters wickedly frame The Death of our Sovereign was the result To which at least Forty all signed their name They would not do that In the place where they sat Trusty Oates must convey't from this man to that To make sure work by Poyson the Deed must be done And by a long Dagger and shot from a Gun The truth of my Story c. 7. For fear at St. Omers their Oates might be miss'd They agreed with the Devil t' appear in his place In a Body of Air believe 't if you list Which lookt just like Oats mov'd with the same grace 'T cou'd Plot it cou'd Cant Turn eyes like a Saint And of our great Doctor no feature did want Thus hundreds might swear they saw Oates ev'ry day But true Oats was here and the Devil say they The truth of my Story c. 8. From Father Oliva Commissions did come To raise a great Army much Treasure is spent The old Man did once think to take Post from Rome For to ride at the head of them was his intent Lord Bellas was sit Who can deny it To command in his place when his Gout wou'd permit Lord Stafford was proper'st to trust with their pay Old Ratcliffe to range them in Battle-Array The truth of my Story c. 9. Th' High-Treasurers place the L. Powis did please Men of desp'rate Fortunes oft venture too far Lord Peters would hazard Estate and his Ease And Life for the Pope too in this holy War Lord Ar'ndel of old So war-like and bold Made choice of a Chancellors Gown we are told All these did conspire with the Lord Castlemain Who now his good Dutchess will ne'r catch again The Truth of my Story c. 10. Great store of wild Irish both civil and wise Designed to joyn with the Pilgrims of Spain Many thousands being ready all in good guise Had vow'd a long Pilgrimage over the Main To arm well this Host When it came on our Coast Black Bills forty thousand are sent by the Post This Army lay privately on the Sea shore And no man e'r heard of 'em since or before The Truth of my Story c. The Second PART The Contents of the second Part. Of Arms under-ground for Horse and for Foot The King almost kill'd but Gun will not shoot For which Pickring is whip'd All of them swear To be true to the Plot yet Oats not for Fear But Revenge being turn'd away and well hang●d Discovers them all the Jesuits are hang'd 1. The Plot being thus subtly contriv'd as you hear To God knows how many this Secret th' impart Some famous for Cheats yet their Faith they don't fear To tie a Knave fast they had found a new Art They swore on a Book And Sacrament took But you 'll find if into their grave Authors you look To forswear●s no sin as th' Recorder well notes Nor Treason Rebellion nor cutting of Throats The Truth of my Story c. 2. Still blinded by Zeal and inveigl'd by Hope Store of Arms they provide for Fight Defence The Lords must command as Vice-Roys of the Pope And all over

honest Man Can Titus be just to the King From Treason and Treachery free When the Doctor hangs in a String For Plotting and Perjury 5. For Damage the Doctor has done Poor Titus is got in the Pound 'Till the Doctor produce the Sum Full Thirty thousand pound If you knew on what damnable score Such perilous words he brought forth You 'd say his false Tongue cost more Than ever his Head was worth 6. The Doctor an Evidence Against our Great Duke did come in Nay such was his Insolence To impeach our Gracious Queen For Which such Indictments are brought Such Actions of Scandal crowd in That Titus could wish t is thought He were out of the Doctor 's Skin 7. Nay further while Titus swore For the Safety and Life of the King The Doctor began to roar And belch'd out his poyson'd Sting The Doctor for Titus may stretch H' has so brought his bus'ness about Without the kind help of Ketch It 's fear'd he will scarce get out 8. Through sixteen close Key-holes 't is plain Invisible Titus did pass And the Doctor got back again To catch a great Don at Mass But now they are both in the Trap 'T is a Wager but Jack in the Fields Tho' Titus may chance to ' scape Has the Doctor fast by the heels A new way to Play an old Game Tune Would you be a man of fashion 1. HAve you heard of Forty-One Sir When the Cause did thrive amain Tony's Tap did freely run Sir Tap did freely run Sir And confronted Charles his Wain When the Commons thought it Reason And a meritorious thing To use Villany and Treason And made Charles a Glorious King Have you heard of Eighty-Three Sir When a deeper Plot was lay'n When the Rascals did agree Sir Rascals did agree Sir To play o're the same again When to act their Reformation Nought their Fury would suffice But they needs must Purge the Nation By a Royal Sacrifice 3. Have you seen those Motly-Martys That did suffer for the Cause Swinging in their Tyburn Garters In their Tyburn-Garters To Attone their Sacred Laws If the Blunderbuss shou'd miss Sir And shou'd fail to kill the King There are other means should hit Sir And perform the Glorious Thing 4. To his Name a Statue's due Sir Higher than the Monument Who this mighty Deed shall do Sir Mighty Deed shall do Sir So Great so Good so Excellent Future Ages shall him Crown Sir And shall bless the happy hour And Religion shall fall down Sir And adore her Saviour 5. Thus the Boasting Bigots Canted Big with hopes of Common-weal Thus the Priestly Villain Ranted Priestly Villain Ranted In a Drunken sit of Zeal But their Plots were all in vain Sir And their Haughty rash Career Signs and Wonders make it plain Sir Kings are Heavens peculiar Care The Loyal Irish-mam Tune Irish Trot or Fingaul Jigg 1. MY bony dear Shony My Crony my Honey Why dost thou grumble And keep in thy words so Sighing and Crying And Groaning and Frowning Ah why dost thou still Lay thy hand on thy Sword so What if the Traytors Will talk of State-matters And rail at the King Without Cause or Reason We 'll Love on and let Business alone For Billing and Kissing Will ne'r be found Treason 2. Plotting and Sotting And Railing and Fooling Gods Nowns with the Rable Is now all the Fashion Swearing and Tearing Caballing and Brawling By Chriest and St. Patrick Will ruine the Nation He 's but a Widgeon That talks of Religion Since Rebels are now The Reformers and Teachers Sodom's Disciple Debauches the People Good Heaven defend us From more of such Preachers 3. Visions Seditions And Railing Petitions The Rable receive And are wondrous merry All can remember The Fifth of November But no man the Thirtieth of January Talking of Treason Without any Reason Will lose the poor City It s Bountiful Charter The Commons haranging Will bring them to Hanging Though each Puppy hopes To be Knight of the Garter 4. C on and P on Papillion that Villain With Cornish and Ward Are the Monarchy Hunters Rascals too low are To lodge in the Tower And scarcely are fitting To fill up the Compter Bethel is ●led too And Toney is dead too Our Fate to befriend us Made bold to strike sirs Routed the Bigot And pull'd out the Spigot His Fame and his Body Now stink alike Sir A Litany from Geneva In answer to that from St Omers FRom the Tap in the Guts of the Honorable Stump From which runs Rebellion that stinks like the Rump On purpose to leven the Factious Lump Libera nos Domine From him that aspires as high as the Crown And vows to pull Copes and Cathedrals down Fit only to govern the World in the Moon Libera nos From the Prick-ear'd Levite that can without pain Swear Black into White then Vnswear it again Whose Name did design him a Villain in Grain Libera nos From his Black-Bills and Pilgrims with Sticks in their hands That came to make a Religious Band Then Ravish our Wives and Inhabit our Land Libera nos From the Mouth of the City that never gives o●r To complain of Oppressions unheard-of before And yet for his Letchery will not quit score Libera nos From the Cent per Cent Scriv'ner all his State-tricks That cryer out of Intemp'rance who yet will not stick To clear a young Spend-thrift's Estate at a lick Libera nos From the Force and the Fire of the Insolent Rable That wou'd hurl the Government into a Babel And from the nice Fare of the Mouse-starver's Table Libera nos From the Elder in New street that Goggles Cants Then turns up his Whites to nose it and pants And at the same time plays the Devil and Saint Libera nos From Jenkin's Homilies drawn through the Nose From Langley Dick Baldwin and all such as those And from Brawney Settle's Poem in Prose Libera nos From a Surfeit occasion'd by Protestant Feasts From Sedition for Sawce and Republicks for Guests With Treason for Grace-Cup or Faction at least Libera nos From the Conscience of Ci●s resembling their Dames That in private are Nice but in publick so Tame That they will not stick out for a Touch of the same Libera nos From the blind Zeal of all Democratical Tools From Whigland and all its Anarchical Rules Devised by Knaves and Imposed on Fools Libera nos From the Late Times Reviv'd when Religion was gain And Church-Plate was seiz'd for Reliques Prophane Since practic'd by Searching Sir William again Libera nos From such Reformation where Zealots begun To preach Heaven must by firm Bulwarks be won And Te Deum sung from the mouth of a Gun Libera nos From Parliamentarians that out of their Love And Care for His Majesty's Safety wou'd prove The securest way were His Guards to remove Libera nos From Sa●cy Petitions that serve to inflame us From all who for the Association are famous From the Devil the Doctor the damn'd