The weaver then no more must leave His loom and turn a preacher, Nor with his cant poor fools deceive To make himself the richer. Our leaders soon would disappear If such a change should be, Our scriblers too would stink for fear, Then low, boys, down go we.
No canvisars would dare to shew Their postures and grimaces, Or proph’sy what they never knew, By dint of ugly faces. But shove the tumbler through the town, And quickly banish’d be, For none must teach without a gown, Then low, boys, down go we.
If such unhappy days should come, Our virtue, moderation, Would surely be repaid us home With double compensation; For as we never could forgive, I fear we then should see That what we lent we must receive, Then low, boys, down go we.
Should honest brethren once discern Our knaveries, they’d disown us, And bubbl’d fools more wit should learn, The Lord have mercy on us; Let’s guard against that evil day, Least such a time should be, And tackers should come into play, Then low, boys, down go we.
Tho’ hitherto we’ve play’d our parts Like wary cunning foxes, And gain’d the common people’s hearts By broaching het’rodoxes,— But they’re as fickle as the winds, With nothing long agree, And when they change their wav’ring minds, Then low, boys, down go we.
Let’s preach and pray, but spit our gall On those that do oppose us, And cant of grace, in spite of all The shame the Devil owes us: The just, the loyal, and the wise With us shall Papists be, For if the _High Church_ once should rise, Then, _Low Church_, down go we.
PHANATICK ZEAL, OR A LOOKING-GLASS FOR THE WHIGS.
From a Collection of 180 Loyal Songs. Tune, “A Swearing we will go.”
WHO would not be a Tory When the loyal are call’d so: And a Whig now is known To be the nation’s foe? So a Tory I will be, will be, And a Tory I will be.
With little band precise, Hair Presbyterian cut, Whig turns up hands and eyes Though smoking hot from slut. So a Tory I will be, etc.
Black cap turn’d up with white, With wolfish neck and face, And mouth with nonsense stuft, Speaks Whig a man of grace, And a Tory I will be, etc.
The sisters go to meetings To meet their gallants there; And oft mistake for my Lord, And snivel out my dear. And a Tory I will be, etc.
