 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
61
Tom Tyler;
or the Nurse.
Old Stories of a Tyler sing,
That did attempt to be a King:
Our Age is with a Tyler grac'd,
By more preposterous Planets rais'd.
His Cap with Jocky's match'd together,
Turn'd to a Beaver and a Feather;
His Clay transform'd to Yellow Guilt,
And Trowel to a Silver Hilt.
That did attempt to be a King:
Our Age is with a Tyler grac'd,
By more preposterous Planets rais'd.
His Cap with Jocky's match'd together,
Turn'd to a Beaver and a Feather;
His Clay transform'd to Yellow Guilt,
And Trowel to a Silver Hilt.
His Lady from the Tiles and Bricks,
Kidnap'd to Court in Coach and Six;
Her Arms a sucking Prince embrace,
(Whate'er you think) of Royal Race:
A Prince, come in the Nick of Time
(Bless'd Dada! 'tis a Venial Crime
That shall repeal our Breach of State,
While all the World congratulate,
Shall, like his Sire, suppress the Just,
Raise Knaves and Fools to place of Trust;
T---s and V---e, who sought his Fate,
Tylers and Macs, two Chits of State.
But here, unhappy Babe, Alass,
I cannot but lament thy Case!
That Thou, fed up with Rome's strong Meat.
Shou'd long for Milk of Heretick Teats!
Among the Daughters was there none
Worthy to Nurse a Monarch's Son,
That Thou, in spight of all the Priests,
Shoud'st long for Milk of Heretick Breasts?
But if thy Uncle, who before
Was always right, chang'd the last hour,
If thy undoubted Sire, so sage,
Declar'd i'th' Evening of his Age;
Why shou'dst not thou, Papist so soon,
Be a stanch Protestant e're Noon?
Kidnap'd to Court in Coach and Six;
Her Arms a sucking Prince embrace,
(Whate'er you think) of Royal Race:
A Prince, come in the Nick of Time
(Bless'd Dada! 'tis a Venial Crime
That shall repeal our Breach of State,
While all the World congratulate,
Shall, like his Sire, suppress the Just,
Raise Knaves and Fools to place of Trust;
T---s and V---e, who sought his Fate,
Tylers and Macs, two Chits of State.
But here, unhappy Babe, Alass,
I cannot but lament thy Case!
That Thou, fed up with Rome's strong Meat.
Shou'd long for Milk of Heretick Teats!
Among the Daughters was there none
Worthy to Nurse a Monarch's Son,
That Thou, in spight of all the Priests,
Shoud'st long for Milk of Heretick Breasts?
62
Was always right, chang'd the last hour,
If thy undoubted Sire, so sage,
Declar'd i'th' Evening of his Age;
Why shou'dst not thou, Papist so soon,
Be a stanch Protestant e're Noon?
This said, the Tyler laugh'd in's Sleeve,
And took his Audience of Leave,
The Prince who answer'd ne're a Word,
That he shou'd Travel did accord;
To Paris, sent to learn Grimace,
To Swear and Damn with a Boon Grace.
And took his Audience of Leave,
The Prince who answer'd ne're a Word,
That he shou'd Travel did accord;
To Paris, sent to learn Grimace,
To Swear and Damn with a Boon Grace.
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