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(347) Page 323 - Pot-companions
JACOBITE SONGS. 323
May the groans of th' afflicted be the rest of thy food ;
May I sport in an ocean of innocent blood ;
May I stick at no mischief that hell can afford,
While I boast that I'm doing the work of the Lord.
May I trample, &c.
With Luther and Calvin, and many saints more,
I'll boast of religion, denying its power ;
With couut'nance distorted, and feign'd whining zeal,
I'll teach, and preach monarchy into commonweal.
May I trample, &c.
May all my plots prosper, both old ones and new ones,
No shifting of sham plots, no trusting of true ones :
May ages hereafter in history tell.
Jack Presbyter rampant has twice borne the bell.
May I trample on princes with an absolute sway,
And grow prouder, and higher, and richer than they,
Still advancing myself as my rulers decay.
Tone — "Thus all the day long we 're frolic and gay."
1680.
Come, make a good toast, and stir up the fire.
And fill the great tankard with what we admire ;
Then bring in a paper of excellent Fogoe,
That we may perfume the whole house with the hogoe :
And here let us sit, like honest brave fellows,
That neither are Tories nor Whigs, in an alehouse.
And here let us sit, like honest brave fellows, &c»
We'll raise no disputes of the church or the state,
To waken the plot, which has slept out its date ;
Nor came we to treat of the city's great charter.
But only to drink to the sons of the Martyr :
For better it is to be honestly sotting,
Than to live to be hang'd by caballing and plotting.
For better it is, &c.
Since freedom or death is not in our power,
What have we to do with the lords in the Tower ?

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