University of Virginia Library

The Chancellour turn'd Tarpaulin.

To be a Pris'ner, hated, loath'd, and scorn'd,
With unlamented Plagues, thy fall unmourn'd,
Under approaching Torments keenest Dread,
And 'midst a shouting Crowd unpitied led,
To meet a shameful Death, would seem t'attone
All horrid Villanies except thy own:
But they so numerous, great and loud appear,
They dull Repentance, as they heighten fear.
Curs'd by your King, your Country, and it seems
You're Curs'd too by your own Prophetick Dreams:
Curs'd in your Novice Years and Indigence,
When Railing was your Law and Eloquence.
And Curs'd e'er since for Fraud and Bribery,
Lying, Partiality, and Perjury.
Curs'd by all People, Prosp'rous and Forlorn,
And will be Curs'd by thousands yet unborn.
Curs'd by the Just and Virtuous, and what's worse,
You have your Fathers and your Childrens Curse.
Legions of Ghosts you've murder'd will appear,
And whisper, on the Gallows, in your Ear;
Your Byass'd Judgment's giv'n against the Good,
That you might reek in Mony and in Blood.
The Tyrant, when Perillus brought his Bull,
Made the Inventor prove the first sad Howl.
Your Whipping so (tho late) should well be try'd
(Which you found out) upon your bleeding Hide.
And thus Condemn'd, you'll be rewarded well
With Pill'ry, Carts-Tail, Gibbets, Flames and Hell.
And with your Quarters hurl'd into your Grave,
Let this be wrote, I was both Fool and Knave,
To Law and Drink a Scandal and a Slave.