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CURSE,
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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CURSE,

1690.

Curs'd be the Stars which did ordain
Queen Bess a Maiden Life should reign;
Married she might have brought an Heir,
Nor had we known a S---t here.
Curs'd be the Tribe who at Whitehall
Slew one o'th' Name, and slew not all.
Curs'd be the Second, who took Gold
From France, and Britain's Honour sold:
But curs'd of all be J--- the last,
The worst of Kings, of Fools the best.

399

And doubly cursed be those Knaves,
Who out of Loyalty would make us Slaves.
Curs'd be the Clergy who desire
The French to bring in James the Squire,
And save your Church so as by fire.
Curst be the Earl of T---ton,
Who almost had three Lands undone;
Who out of Fear, of Pride, or Gain,
Betray'd our Land, and lost her Main.
Curs'd be the Ministers of State,
Who keep our Fleet till 'tis too late;
Who have six Weeks the Cause disputed,
When the Whole in two might have recruited.
Curs'd be the Name of English-man,
To curse it more live T---ton.
Let Resolution only be
King William's noble Property:
He hath done what we ne'er could do,
Ill to himself, to us been true,
Prove that among us, and curse me too.