The SCAMPERERS.
[_]
To the Tune of, Packinton's Pound.
[I]
When the Joy of all Hearts, & desire of all Eyes,
In whom our chief Refuge and Confidence lies,
The Protestant Bulwark against all Despair,
Has depriv'd us at once, of her self and her Heir:
That hopeful young Thing,
Begot by a King,
And a Q. whose Perfections o'er all the world ring.
A Father whose Courage no Mortal can daunt,
And a Mother whose Virtue no Scandal can taint.
II
When Jeffryes resigns up the Purse and the Mace,
Whose impudent Arrogance gain'd him the place,
When, like Lucifer, thrown from the height of his pride,
And the Knot of his Villanies strangely unty'd.
From the Chancery Bawling,
He turns a Tarpaulin;
Men still catch at any thing when they are falling:
But a plague of ill fortune, before he could scoure,
He was taken at Wapping, and sent the Tower.
III
When Confessor Petre's does yield up the Game,
And proves to the worst of Religion a shame;
When his cheating no more o're our Reason prevails,
But is blasted like that of his true Prince of Wales:
Which was his Contrivance,
And our Wise King's Connivance,
To establish the Papists, and Protestants drive hence:
But their Cobweb Conception is brought to the Test,
And the coming of Orange has quite spoil'd the Jest:
IV
When Pet--- noted for all that is ill,
Was urg'd by his Wife to the making his Will;
At the hearing which words he did stare, foam & roar,
Then broke out in Cursing and calling her Whore.
And for two hours at least
His Tongue never ceas'd,
He rail'd on Religion, and damn'd the poor Priest,
And his Friends, who had hope to behold him expire,
Are afraid by this Bout they shall lose their desire.
V
Young S--- fam'd in this great Expedition,
Not for going to War, but obtaining Commission;
It's no Mystery to me if his Courage did fail,
When the greatest of Monarchs himself did turn Tail:
So that if he took Flight,
With his Betters by night,
I am apt to believe the pert Spark was i'th' right:
For the Papists this Maxim do every where hold,
To be forward in Boasting, in Courage less Bold.
VI
Nor should B---, P---, and A--- throng,
But each in due place have his Attributes sung.
Yet since 'tis believ'd by the strange turn of Times,
They'll be call'd to account for their Treasonable Crimes,
While the Damn'd Popish Plot,
Is not yet quite forgot,
For which the Lord St--- went justly to Pot;
And to their great comfort I'll make it appear,
They that gave them their Freedom, themselves are not clear.
VII
Wi. W---, that Friend to the Bishops and Laws,
As the Devil would have it, espous'd the wrong Cause;
Now loath'd by the Commons, and scorn'd by the Peers,
His Patent for Honour, in pieces he tears,
Both our Britains are fool'd,
Who the Laws over-rul'd,
And next Parliament each will be plaguily school'd:
Then try if your Cunning can find out a Flaw
To preserve you from Judgment according to Law.
VIII
Sir Edward Hale's Actions I shall not repeat,
Till by Axe, or by Halter, his Life he compleat,
Pen's History shall be related by Lobb,
Who has ventur'd his Neck for a Snack in the Jobb,
All their Priests and Confessors,
With their Dumb Idol-Dressers,
Shall meet that Reward which is due to Transgressors,
And no Papist henceforth shall these Kingdoms inherit,
But ORANGE shall reap the Fruit of his Merit.
