Classic Poem

To the Tune of Cuckolds all a Row .

You Cow-hearted Citizens
 What is your damn'd pretence,
To keep your selves within your beds
 And not fight for your Prince;
Whose Majesty should you behold,
 Your shame will breed your woe,
And then like fools you will crYout
Cuckolds all a row.

There's some of you whose Bishops Lands
 Do so much cloy their heels,
That now they cannot stir, whereas
 Else would they run on wheels:
But yet I hope a time will come
 When you shall be made know,
And told unto their faces that
You'r Cuckolds all a row.

But yet for one most reverent Act
 You are to be commended,
That through your Rams-Head zeal you have
 Your Brother Rump Befriended.
To seat them in the Parliament House,
 Their wisdomes forth to show,
But they and you are all alike
Cuckolds all a row.

But I advise you set this RUMP
 In salt for fear of stinking,
'Twill fall unto the Devils share,
 Because 'tis his by drinking;
In spight of all their Acts and Laws
 Hee'l car' them down below,
Then Hell and City all alike
Cuckolds all a row.

Alas poor Lambert is undone,
 And now he may go Preach,
Since 'tis the English Al-a-mode
 For every Rogue to Teach;
He'le nose it bravely in a Tub,
 And let his Brethren know
That they are Damn'd unlesse they dip
Cuckolds all a row.

But where's your mighty Fleetwood now,
 His honor's worn to th' stump,
He'le serve Ambassador to hell
 To make room for the Rump,
And thus King-killers one by one
 Shall go the Devil goe
Upon the City Asses pack
Cuckolds all a row.

And now Cow-hearts look to your shops,
 The Red-coats will you fright,
And plunder you because they know
 Your hornes hang in your light;
Not matter, for you have been the cause
 Of all the Kingdoms woe,
And do deserve still to be call'd
Cuckolds all a row.

But if that you would honest grow,
 And do a glorious thing,
Which is to rouse and take your Armes,
 And fight for Charles our King;
Which Act your Credits will regain,
 And all the World shall know
That you shall then no more be call'd
Cuckolds all a row.