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North End Forever. |
Extraordinary VERSES on POPE-NIGHT.
Or, A Commemoration of the Fifth of November, giving a Hiſtory of the Attempt, made by the Papiſhes, to blow up KING and PARLIAMENT, A. D. 1588. Together with ſome Account of the POPE himſelf, and his Wife JOAN; with ſeveral other Things worthy of Notice, too tedious to mention.
1HUZZA! brave Boys, behold the Pope,
Pretender and Old-Nick;
How they together lay their Heads,
To plot a poiſon Trick?
2. To blow up KING and PARLIAMENT
To Flitters, rent and torn:
—Oh! blund'ring Poet, ſince the Plot,
Was this Pretender born.—
3. Yet, ſure upon this famous Stage,
He's got together now;
And had he then, he'd been a Rogue
As bad as t'other two.
4. Come on, brave Youths, drag on your Pope
Let's ſee his frightful Phiz:
Let's view his Features rough and fierce,
That Map of Uglineſs!
5. Diſtorted Joints, so huge and broad!
So horribly dreſt up!
'Twould puzzle Newton's Self to tell,
The Dl from the Pope.
6. See! how He Shakes his tot'ring Head
And knocks his palſy Knees;
A Proof He is the Scarlet Whore,
And got the foul Diſeaſe.
7. Most terrible for to behold,
He Stinks much worſe then Rum:
Here, you behold the Pope, and here
Old Harry in his Rome.
8. D'ye aſk why Satan Stands behind?
Before he durſt not go,
Becauſe his Pride won't let him Stoop,
To kiſs the Pope's great Toe.
9. Old Boys, and young, be Sure obſerve
The Fifth Day of November;
What tho' it is a Day apaſt?
You ſtill can it remember.
10. The little Popes, they go out Firſt,
With little teney Boys:
In Frolicks they are full of Gale
And laughing make a Noiſe.
11. The Girls run out to ſee the Sight,
The Boys eke ev'ry one;
Along they are a dragging them,
With Granadier's Caps on.
12. The great Ones next go out, and meet
With many a Smart Rebuf:
They're hall'd along from Street to Street
And call hard Names enough.
13. "A Pagan, Jew, Mahometan,
Turk, Strumpet, Wizzard, Witch;"
In ſhort the Number of his Name's,
Six Hundred, Sixty-ſix.
14. "How dreadful do his Features ſhow?
"How fearful is his Grin?
"Made up of ev'ry Thing that's bad;
He is the Man of Sin.
15. If that his deeden Self could ſee
Himſelf ſo turn'd to Fun:
In Rage He'd tear out His Pope's Eyes,
And ſcratch his Rev'rend Bum.
16. He'd kick his tripple Crown about,
And weary of his Life,
He'd curſe the Rabble, and away
He'd run to tell his Wife.
17. [Some Wits begin to cavil here
And laughing ſeem to query,
"How Pope ſhould have a Wife, and yet,
The Clergy never marry."
18. Laugh if you pleaſe, yet ſtill I'm ſure
If falſe I'm not alone;
Pray Critic, did you never hear
Not read of fair Pope-Joan.]
19. "Help Joan! ſee how I'm drag'd and bounc'd,
"Purſu'd, ſurrounded,—Wife!
"And when I'm bang'd to Death, I ſhall
"Be barbacu'd alive."
20. Joan cry's, "Why in this Paſſion, Sir?
"And why ſo raving mad?
"You ſurely muſt miſtake the Caſe,
"It cannot be ſo bad."
21. "You Fool! I ſaw it with my Eyes,
"I cannot be deceiv'd."
"Yes, but You told me t'other Day,
"Sight muſt not be believ'd."
22. Aſham'd, inrag'd, and mad, and vex'd,
He mutters ten Times more,
"I'll make a Bull, and my He-Cow
"Shall bellow, grunt and roar."
23. Oh! Pope, we pity thy ſad Caſe,
So diſmal and forlorn!
We know that thou a Cuckold art,
For thou haſt many an Horn.
24. And eke ſev'n Heads he has alſo.
Tho' but one on him ſticks:
Ten Horns he in his Pocket puts,
And Heads no leſs than ſix.
25. His Pockets full of Heads and Horns,
In's Hand he holds his Keys;
So down He bends beneath their Weight,
With Age, Shame and Diſeaſe.
26. His End ſo near, each Cardinal
Quite old himſelf would feign:
He tries to ſtoop and cough that he
Might his Succeſſor reign.
27. And now, their Frolick to compleat,
They to the Mill-Dam go;
Burn Him to Nothing firſt, and then
Plunge Him the Waves into.
28. But to conclude, from what we've heard,
With Pleaſure ſerve that King:
Be not Pretenders, Papiſhes,
Nor Pope, nor t'other Thing.
Sold by the Printers Boys in Boſton.
