Complete.
191
We’ll melt all their Bodkins the quicker
Into Sack, and so drink them away,
We’ll spend the demeans o’ th’ Bishops & Deans,
And over the Presbyter sway.
Into Sack, and so drink them away,
We’ll spend the demeans o’ th’ Bishops & Deans,
And over the Presbyter sway.
The nimble St. Patrick is sunk in a bog,
And his Country-men sadly cry, Oh hone, Oh hone,
St. Andrew and ’s kirk-men are lost in a fog,
And we are the Saints alone:
Thus on our superiours and equals we trample,
Whilst Jockie the stirrop shall hold,
The Citie’s our Mule for example,
While we thus in plenty are roll’d,
Each delicate Dish shall but answer our wish,
And our drink shall be cordial Gold.
And his Country-men sadly cry, Oh hone, Oh hone,
St. Andrew and ’s kirk-men are lost in a fog,
And we are the Saints alone:
Thus on our superiours and equals we trample,
Whilst Jockie the stirrop shall hold,
The Citie’s our Mule for example,
While we thus in plenty are roll’d,
Each delicate Dish shall but answer our wish,
And our drink shall be cordial Gold.
Love lies a bleeding: In Imitation of
Law lies a bleeding.
Lay by your pleading,
Love lies a bleeding,
Burn all your Poetry, and throw away your reading.
Piety is painted,
And Truth is tainted,
Love is a reprobate, and Schism now is Sainted,
The Throne Love doth sit on,
We dayly do spit on,
Love lies a bleeding,
Burn all your Poetry, and throw away your reading.
Piety is painted,
And Truth is tainted,
Love is a reprobate, and Schism now is Sainted,
The Throne Love doth sit on,
We dayly do spit on,
It
