Classic Poem

To the Tune of The Sword .

1.

Now by your good leave Sirs,
Shall see the Rump can cleave Sirs,
And what Chips from this Treacherous Block
Will come you may conceive Sirs.

2.

Lenthall's the first o' the Lump sure,
A Fart and he may jump sure,
For both do stink, and both we know
Are Speakers of the Rump sure.

3.

That Mine of Fraud Sir Arthur ,
His Soul for Lands will barter,
And if you'd ride to Hell in a Wayn
Hee's fit to make your Carter.

4.

Sir Harry Vane , God blesse us,
To Popery he would press us,
And for the Devils Dinner he,
The Romane way would dress us.

5.

Harry Martin never mist-a
To love the wanton Twist-a,
And lustfull Aretines bawdy Leaves
Are his Evangelist-a.

6.

Harry Nevill's no Wigeon,
His Practise truly stygian
Makes it a Master-piece of wit
To be of no Religion.

7.

But my good Lord Glyn Man,
Pride is a deadly sin Man,
Cots plutera nails few Traytors be
Like you of all your kin Man.

8.

If Saint-John be a Saint Sir,
He hath a devilish Taynt Sir,
While Straffords blood in Heavens High Court
Of Justice makes complaint Sir.

9.

Doctor Palmers all day sleeping,
And into his Heart ne're peeping.
'Tis ill he that neglects his own,
Should have All-souls in keeping.

10.

Will Bruertons a sinner,
And, Croyden knows, a Winner,
But O take heed least he do eat
The Rump all at one Dinner.

11.

Robin Andrews is a Miser,
Of Coblers no despiser,
And could they vamp him a new head,
Perhaps he would be Wiser.

12.

But Baron Wild come out here,
Shew your Ferret Face and Snout here,
For you being both a Fool and Knave
Are a Monster in the Rout here.

13.

Nick Lechmere Loyalty needs still,
And on Weather-Cocks he feeds still,
If Heathen, Turk or Jew should come,
So he would change his Creed still.

14.

There's half-witted Will Say too,
A right fool in the Play too,
That would make a perfect Asse,
If he could learn to Bray too.

15.

Cornelius thou wert a Link-boy,
And born 'tis like, in a Sink boy,
Ide tell thy Knavery to the World,
But thy pitch sticks in my ink boy.

16.

Baron Hill was but a Valley,
And born scarce to an Alley,
But now is Lord of Taunton Dean
And thousands he can Ralley.

17.

But if you ask the Nation,
Whence came his Elevation?
They'll say he was not raised by God,
But by our inundation.

18.

Lord Fines he will not Mall men,
For he likes not death of all men,
And his heart doth go to Pit to Pat.
When to Battle he should call men.

19.

Perfideous Whitlock ever,
Hath mischiefs under's Beaver,
And for his ends will put the World
Into a burning Feavour.

20.

Ashley Cowper knew a Reason,
That Treachery was in season,
When at the first he turned his coat
From Loyalty to Treason.

21.

And gouty Master Wallop ,
Now thinks he hath the Ballop,
But though he trotted to the Rump,
Hee'l run away a Gallop.

22.

There's Carew Rawleigh by him,
All good men do defie him,
And they that think him not a Knave,
I wish they would but try him.

23.

Luke Robinson that Clownado,
Though his heart be a Granado,
Yet a High-shooe with his hands in his Poke,
Is his most perfect shadow.

24.

Salloway with Tobacco,
Inspired, turn'd State Quacko;
And got more by his feigned zeal,
Then by his What de'e lack ho .

25.

But Lisle is half forgotten,
Who oft is over-shotten,
For just like Harp and Gridiron
His brains with Law do Cotten.

26.

Lord Monson's next the Bencher,
Who waited with a Trencher,
Now his tail is jerk'd at home and abroad,
For he's a feeble Wencher.

27.

We hear from Sir John Lenthall ,
Though his gouty Lord hath spent all,
His Rump's plac'd wrong, but 'tis his face
That is right Fundamental.

28.

What Knaves are more to be vext, Sirs,
You'l hear when I sing next, Sirs,
For now my Muse is tir'd with this
Abominable text, Sirs.

Ridentem dicere verum, Quid vetat?