A New Song

Let Crowns, Fame and Treasure,
Love and Joy without Measure,
Still attend our great Caesar,
Let Jove take a Pleasure,
To quaff Divine Nectar,
And Drink his Duration
Like a boon jolly Hector,
To the God of our Nation.

Try chance,
Let's advance,
Bid defiance
To all France.
Let Kettle Drums and Trumpets sound,
Let e'ry Man stand his ground,
Till with Lawrels Crown'd,
And Couragiously make
The Monsieur Quake,
His Fistula ake
Till he betake
To flight for the sake
Of his last stake.

Let Patriots guard the Throne,
Let Papists all go down,
Let Perkins meet the Fate
For to be own'd a Cheat,
Let Jefferies have his Dream
For swimming with the stream,
Let Father Peters swing
With the Nuncio in a string,
Let Gods made of poor Bread
No more be worshipped,
But every Popish Peer
That goes Embassadour
To Rome forfeit his Head
For such a Traiterous Deed,
And all the Lands he owns
To satisfie the Crown,
The Expences on that Whore.

Great Orange undaunted fears not their dam'd Treason,
But with Godlike Patience would bring them to Reason,
Till tir'd with their Plottings, like Jove with his Thunder,
The Wretches he scatters and brings them all under.

Then to the Queen lets render our praise,
The glory of Brittain and Honours bright Theam,
The Envy and Hate
Of Jesuits Pates,
Whose cunning contrivances prove but a Dream.

Let Gaudy Processions,
And Lustful Confessions
With James our late King in France ever stay,
Let wit got with tryal
Now make us defyal,
Those shamming pretences could once us betray.