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If once that Antichristian crew Be crusht and overthrown, Wee'l teach the Nobles how to crouch, And keep the Gentry down: Good manners have an evil report, And turn to pride we see: Wee'l, therefore, cry good manners down; And, hey! then up goe we. The name of Lord shall be abhor'd; For every man's a brother: No reason why, in Church or State, One man should rule another.
A little castle-soape Will do 't, to rub your lips: And then a nutshell, With toe and touchwood in it to spit fire, Did you ner'e read, Sir, little Darrel's tricks, With the boy o' Burton, and the 7 in Lancashire, Sommers at Nottingham? All these do teach it. And wee'l give out, Sir, that your wife ha's bewitch'd you.
But, when the change of Government Shall set our fingers free, Wee'l make the wanton Sisters stoop: And, hey! then up goe we. Our Coblers shall translate their soules From Caves obscure and shady; Wee' make Tom T as good as my Lord, And Joan as good as my Lady. Wee'l crush and fling the marriage Ring Into the Romane See; Wee'l ask no bans, but even clap hands; And, hey! then up goe we.
"In comes the bailiff 'Good morrow to you, sir, says I, leading out of the stable my lord's horse, with an ould saddle and bridle on. "'Tim Neal, says I to the groom, who was rubbing down the garrone's heels, 'mind your hits to-day, and wee'l wet the plate to-night." "'Not so fast, neither, says the bailiff 'here's my writ for seizing the horse. "'Och, says I, 'you wouldn't be so cruel.
"Then the blessed Paths wee'l travel, Strow'd with Rubies thick as gravel; Sealings of Diamonds, Saphire floors, High walls of Coral, and Pearly Bowers." Such were some of the influences which widened the region of thought, and excited the productive power, in the minds of the time.
Wee'l down with Deans and Prebends, too; But I rejoyce to tell ye How then we will eat Pig our fill, And Capon by the belly: Wee'l burn the Fathers witty Tomes, And make the Schoolmen flee; Wee'l down with all that smels of wit; And, hey! then up goe we.
Wee'l break the windows which the Whore Of Babylon hath painted; And, when the Popish Saints are down, Then Barow shall be Sainted. There's neither Crosse nor Crucifixe Shall stand for man to see: Romes trash and trump'ries shall goe downe; And, hey! then up goe we.
'In comes the bailiff "Good morrow to you, sir," says I, leading out of the stable my lord's horse, with an OULD saddle and bridle on. "Tim Neal," says I to the groom, who was rubbing down the garrone's heels, "mind your hits to-day, and WEE'L wet the plate to-night." "Not so fast, neither," says the bailiff "here's my writ for seizing the horse." "Och," says I, "you wouldn't be so cruel."
Now all our neighbours' chimneys smoke, And Christmas blocks are burning; Their ovens they with bak't meats choke And all their spits are turning. Without the door let sorrow lie, And if, for cold, it hap to die, Wee'l bury 't in a Christmas pye, And evermore be merry. WITHERS, Juvenilia.
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