Classic Poem

Geneva Brotherhood are turn'd Cavaliers;
Scot -like they'll leather guns make of their ears.
The Dutch of Butterboxes will a Navy make:
If true, such ships as these they'll not forsake:
Or some in healths say they'll carouse up seas;
If so; to joyn with them will Roy'lists please.
Low Countries can't want men as some do fear;
One there had Children for each day of th' year.
The Spanish too, with whiskers will invade,
Each hair is fork'd, worse then a two-edg'd blade:
The gallant French come too with braver shapes;
The English at first sight they'll change to Apes.
What though the King in England Castles wants,
Morocco's King on Elephants Castles plants:
And for a Present, Castles mann'd will send:
Wee'll Castles too ith' Aire build, shall befriend.
The World ith' Moon too lately is found out,
It will with Lunaticks joyn, we need not doubt.
With fire from heav'n thus Dover's in our power;
The Thames wee'll turn to flames, shall burn the Tower.

Is your Cause good? the primitive weapons take,
Of pray'rs and tears a thundring Legion make.
You ev'ry day in Oathes could breathe a prayer
With noise and threats, as if yours Thunder were.
Fools, who cast darts 'gainst heav'n, fel on th' Kings head:
Meek Lamb, for your sins he was offered.
Then times nor manners cry, but for your own
Bad manners such bad times had ne're been known.
Whose heir to land, he must be heir to wit:
Fools fortune have, but wise men guardian it.
The fools seed in his tail, wise man in's brain:
Thus wise men fools, and fools wise children gain.
The sons of Bulrushes, lechery of each fool,
Thus o're your fortunes, and o're you must rule.
Boast not of Titles, nor of generous blood;
What virtue gain'd, lose virtue; they're not good.