The Humble Beggar (1802)/Observation on the Times

by Anonymous

Text divider from 'The Humble Beggar', a chapbook printed in Glasgow in 1802

OBSERVATIONS on the TIMES.

King William in Ireland you plainly do know,
He conquer'd old Jamie with a martial blow;
For the Protestant int'rest, he firmly did stand,
To banish black Pap'ry quite out of the land.
Derry down, down, hey derry down.

Since now Pope & Prelate has join'd hand in hand,
And are partly concerned as I understand,
To a free toleration of black Popery,
Which now like a cloud o'er Britain does flie, etc.

Our Worthies of Scotland in the days of old,
The events of Popery they often foretold;
If the blind lead the blind, O what can we say!
When so many at present are now gone astray.
Derry down, down hey derry down.

Since pride and self-int'rest now leads the van,
And causes divisions all over the land,
In their different opinions they cannot agree,
Whilst others are chock'd up with black Popery,

Such a mass of confusion in our kingdoms all three,
Which causes great slaughter by land and by sea,
And if that black Pop'ry here should take place,
I'm sure it wou'd prove to our country's disgrace.

With their books, their beeds & their Popish creed,
Their worshipping faints, & praying for the dead,
Thus with their profession we he'er can agree,
Which is the true marks of black Popery. etc.

Betwixt Pope and Prelate there's a paper wall,
Which divides their opinion, the diff'rence but small,
And if this wall it broke down should be,
No difference at all betwixt them you'd see. etc.

In the garden the Serpent beguiled old Eve,
I fear at the last he'll the Pope so deceive:
And if in his dungeon he chance to fall in,
There will thousands of Prelates I fear follow him.

For both Pope and Pagan are tolerate here,
Tis all for their money, you need not to fear,
For the Golden Calf, so shines in their eyes,
And this is the Image that they idolize. etc.

Our trading's decay'd, and our money is gone,
Which causes many a brave fellow take on,
Though against his will, he arms must lift,
To go for a soldier, which is the last shift.

Those sharpers and bankrupts, as I understand,
The most of our money they're got in their hand;
With pride and high living they squander't away,
Although they have flourish'd for many a day.

If statesmen decay, how can farmers stand?
For many a one's broke here with a full hand,
While others mansworn their knavery to hide,
Şuch villains amongst us I cannot abide.

So now to conclude, and my song for to end,
And wishing my brethren their lives to amend;
With a downfal to Pride and black Popery,
'Till that happy time, no good days we shall fee.
Derry down, down hey derry down.