Page:Chipps of the Old Block; Or, Hercules Cleansing the Augaean Stable.jpg

Chipps of the Old Block;
Or,
Hercules
Cleansing the
Augæan Stable.

To the Tune of, The Sword.

I.
  Now you 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.

II.
  Lenthal’s the first of the Lump ſure,
  A Fart, and he may jump ſure,
For both do ſtink, and both we know are Speakers of the Rump ſure.

III.
  That Mine of fraud Sir Arthur,
  His Soul for Lands will barter,
And if you’d ride to Hell in a Wayne, He’s fit to make your Carter.

IIII.
  Sir Harry Vane, God bleſſe us,
  To Popery he would preſſe us,
And for the Devil’s dinner he, the Romane way would dreſſe us.

V.
  Harry Martin never miſt-a,
  To love the wanton Twiſt-a,
And luſtfull Aretine’s bawdy Leaves are his Evangeliſt-a.

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

VII.
  But my good Lord Glyn Man,
  Pride is a deadly ſinne Man,
Cots pluttera nails few Traitors be like you of all your kin Man.

VIII.
  If Saint-John be a Saint Sir,
  He hath a Deviliſh Taynt Sir,
While Strafford’s blood in Heavens High Court of Juſtice makes complaint Sir.

IX.
  Doctor Palmer’s all day ſleeping,
  And into his Heart ne’re peeping;
’Tis ill he that neglects his own, ſhould have All-ſouls in keeping.

X.
  Will Bruerton’s a ſinner,
  And, Croyden knowes, a Winner,
But O take heed leaſt he do eat the Rump all at one Dinner.

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

XII.
  *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.

XIII.
  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.

XIIII.
  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.

XV.
  Cornelius thou wer’t 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.

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

XVII.
  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.

XVIII.
  Perfidious Whitlock Ever,
  Hath miſchief under’s Beaver,
And for his ends will put the World into a burning Feavour.

XIX.
  Aſhely Cowper knew a Reaſon,
  That Treachery was in Seaſon,
When at the firſt he turn’d his Coat from Loyalty to Treaſon.

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

XXI.
  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.

XXII.
  Luke Robinſon that Clownado,
  Though his heart be a Granado,
Yet a High-Shooe with his hands in’s Poke, is his moſt perfect ſhadow.

XXIII.
  Soloway with Tobacco,
  Inſpired, turnd State Quacko;
And got more by his feigned zeal, then by his What de’e Lack ho.

XXIIII.
  But Widdrington how came you there?
  A wiſe man and a true there!
You are an Athanaſius among a Knaviſh Crew there.

XXV.
  But Liſle is half forgotten,
  Who oft is over ſhotten,
For juſt like Harp and Gridiron his Brains with Law do Cotten.

XXVI.
  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?

Printed at the Hague, for S. Browne, 1659.