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14
THE VISION OF THE POPE.
That beardless king, that perjured thing,
Of Austria’s throne did send,
A mighty crew, who swore to do
His bidding to the end.
Gaul’s President, he also sent,
To help the scheme in vain;
For John Bull rose, and domn’d his nose,
And shook his bristling mane.
We’ve had enough of Popish stuff,
We will not even view it;
No ‘Pope of Rome,’ nor ‘Pope at-home,’
Shall here again renew it.
Up! up! they rise,—with flashing eyes,
And vent their indignation;
“To think these fools, with foreign tools,”
Should rule “Old England’s nation.”
All through the land, they made a stand,
’Gainst priestly domination;
They turned them out, and put to rout,
These traitors to the nation.
