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
