| Jack Presbyter’s up, and hopes at one ſwoop,
|
313
|
| This is the Cabal of ſome Proteſtant Lords,
|
316
|
| There is an old Story, &c.
|
318
|
| Sike a life as Titus led, &c.
|
320
|
| You I love, by Jove I do,
|
321
|
| If Sorrow the Tyrant invade thy Breaſt,
|
322
|
| There was a brave Doctor (as ever you ſaw)
|
323
|
| Let Cæſar live long, and His Temper abide,
|
326
|
| That Man’s a Wretched thing,
|
327
|
| Rouſe, rouſe, my lazy Mirmidons,
|
328
|
| When firſt Dorinda, your bright Eyes,
|
330
|
| Sound the Trumpet, ſound the Trumpet,
|
331
|
| Let the Trumpet ſound, &c.
|
333
|
| 'Twas a Fooliſh Fancy Jemmy,
|
334
|
| Make room for an honeſt Red coat,
|
336
|
| Behold the Morn dawns,
|
339
|
| Hark how Noll and Bradſhaw’s Heads above us,
|
340
|
| The Canons all roaring, and Trumpets ſounding,
|
342
|
| See, ſee, the Air clears, the Murm’rers that grumbled,
|
343
|
| See the Vizor’s pull’d off, & the Zealots are Arming,
|
344
|
| As we were ranging upon the ſalt Seas,
|
346
|
| Now, now too weak, alas! I find our Cauſe
|
348
|
| Come let us be Joyful and ſing,
|
349
|
| I am the Man that not long ſince,
|
352
|
| A bony Lad came to the Court,
|
354
|
| Come beat Alarm, ſound a Charge,
|
356
|
| For Tories now’s the time to ſing,
|
358
|
| What have the Whigs to ſay,
|
360
|
| Hey Jowler, Ringwood and Towzer,
|
363
|
| Three bony Lads were Sawny, Cloud Hamilton
|
365
|
| Juſt as the Miſt of Errour fled,
|
366
|
| Come Bugg’ring Oates, prepare thy Neck,
|
367
|
| Have you not heard of Knaves, &c.
|
369
|
| Old Chiron thus Preach’d to his Pupil Achilles,
|
372
|
