A New Ballad

To an Old Tune, Tom of Bedlam

Make room for an honest Red-coat ,
 (And that you'l say's a wonder)
  The Gun , and the Blade ,
  Are his Tools ,——and his Trade ,
Is for Pay , to Kill and Plunder .
  Then away with the Laws,
   And the Good Old Cause,
Ne'r talk o' the Rump or the Charter,
  'Tis the Cash-does the feat,
   All the rest's but a Cheat,
Without That, there's no Faith nor Quarter.

'Tis the Mark of our Coin, GOD WITH US,
 And the Grace of the Lord go along with't,
  When the Georges are flown,
  Then the Cause goes down ,
 For the Lord is departed from it
  Then away, &c.

For Rome , or for Geneva ,
 For the Table , or the Altar ,
  This spawn of a Vote,
  He cares not a Groat—
 For the Pence , hee's your dog in a Halter.
 Then away, &c.

Tho' the Name of King or Bishop ,
 To Nostrils pure may be Loathsom ,
  Yet many there are,
  That agree with the Maior ,
 That their Lands are wondrous toothsom .
  Then away, &c.

When our Masters are Poor, we Leave 'em,
 'Tis the Golden Calf we bow too;
  We kill, and we slay,
  Not for Conscience, but Pay;
 Give us That, wee'l fight for you too:
  Then away, &c.

'Twas That first turned the King out;
 The Lords , next: then, the Commons:
  'Twas that kept up Nol ,
  Till the Devil fetch'd his Soul;
 And then it set the Bum on's.
  Then away, &c.

Drunken Dick was a Lame Protector ,
 And Fleetwood a Backslider:
  These we served as the rest,
  But the City's the Beast
 That will never cast her Rider.
  Then away, &c.

When the Maior holds the Stirrop,
 And the Shreeves cry, God speed your Honours .
  Then 'tis but a Jump,
  And up goes the Rump,
 That will spur to the Devil upon us.
  Then away, &c.

And now for a fling at your Thimbles ,
 Your Bodkins, Rings , and Whistles ,
  In truck for your Toyes,
  We'll fit you with Boyes:
 ('Tis the doctrine of Hugh's Epistles .)
  Then away, &c.

When your Plate is gone, and your Jewells ,
 You must next be entreated
  To part with your Bags ,
  And strip you to Rags ,
 And yet not think y'are cheated.
  Then away, &c.

The truth is, the Town deserves it;
 'Tis a Brainless, Heartless Monster:
  At a Clubb they may Bawl ,
  Or Declare at their Hall ,
 And yet at a push, not one stir.
  Then away, &c.

Sir Arthur vows he'll treat 'em,
 Far worse than the Men of Chester ,
  He's Bold , now they're Cow'd ,
  But was nothing so Lowd
  When he lay in the ditch at Lester.
  Then away, &c.

The Lord hath left John Lambert ,
 And the Spirit, Feaks Anointed ,
  But why oh Lord,
  Hast thou sheathed thy Sword?
 Lo, thy Saints are disappointed.
  Then away, &c.

Tho' Sir Henry be departed:
 Sir John makes good the place now,
  And to help on the work
  Of the Glorious Kirk ,
 Our Brethren march apace too.
  Then away, &c.

While Divines , and States-men wrangle ,
 Let the Rump-ridden Nation bite on't,
  There are none but we
  That are sure to go free,
 For the Souldier's still in the right on't.
  Then away, &c.

If our Master's won't supply us,
 With Mony, Food , and Clothing:
  Let the State look to't,
  We'll ha' one that will do't,
Let him live ,——we'll not damn for nothing.
  Then away with the Laws,
   And the Good Old Cause,
Ne'r talk o' the Rump or the Charter,
  'Tis the Cash does the Feat,
   All the rest's but a Cheat,
Without That there's no Faith, nor Quarter.
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