 | The secret history of the Calves-Head Club |  |
71
An Anthem on the 30th of January.
I
Welcome, brave Souls,Now drink off your Bowls,
'Twas an Act we all do admire
To stifle the Work
Of an English Turk,
Whose Sun set our City on Fire
II
Whose Deeds were forgot'Till reviv'd by a Plot,
Carry'd on by shitten Mack-Ninney:
But the Martyr in Rage,
Lost his Head on a Stage,
And the Church swore the Devil was in ye.
72
III
Then let us commendThe Deeds of a Friend,
That caused our jolly Meeting;
To our Fathers we owe
The Honour o'th' Blow,
And we are their Sons, that are Feasting.
IV
But who would have thought,That our Scotch Laird
Should make use of the Power of France, Sir?
But their Work is done,
From Father to Son,
We have lost both Root an Branch, Sir.
V
Then again let's commend,That Warlike Hand,
73
'Twas Puss in her Furr,
Did scratch, spit, and purr,
And pointed to Abdication.
| The secret history of the Calves-Head Club | |