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EBBA 20912

Magdalene College - Pepys
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ROPERY Routed:
OR,
Father Petres's Farewel to London City:
To the Tune of, Hark how the Thundring Cannons Roar.

SEe how the Romish Whore goes down,
Posting whole-sale out of Town,
'Cause her Fate does shrewdly Frown,
and Cross her Inclinations:
Father Petres, and his Crew
Of Jesuits, Monks, and Fryars too,
Must now pack up, and bid adieu
to London's Corporation.

Pox on all their Perjur'd Oaths,
Which a Zealous Church-man loaths,
Are they not Woolves in Sheeps Cloaths,
that Lurk in e'ry Station,

To Trappan the Innocent,
And hatch a Hellish Discontent:
Let us then with one consent,
dismiss them from our Nation.

When I saw them first grow Bold,
I thought the Proverb true of old,
That they ran too fast to hold,
their damn'd Insinuation,
Now their prince Dispensing Pow'r,
Lies a-bleeding in the Tow'r,
Cursing of the Fatal Hour
of his first Procreation.

Now that Wizard knows full well,
Himself to be a Bird of Hell,
Inhumanely thus to Rebel
against his Habitation:
But e're this Hypocrite shall pass,
We'll bring his Crimes for Looking-Glass,
To see himself the meerest Ass
of all the Worlds Creation.

Welcome was brave Orange here,
As it plainly doth appear,
Who deliver'd us from Fear
of Popish Usurpation;
Who when we were in great Surprize,
Preserv'd us from our Enemies,
And all the damn'd Conspiracies,
of Rome's Assassination.

Was there such a Trick e're seen,
As hath lately acted been,
By their Fathers, and the Q-----n,
to gull our English Nation?

But their jugling up that Brat,
From we know not who nor what,
Will be prov'd; nay, worse than that
of Transubstantiation.

Monsieur now had best take heed,
For his Expeditious speed,
In Helping us, e're we had need
Of his Dissimulation;
Least in Requital of his Care,
We send his Knives, and some to spare,
And bring Le Bougra in for share
of's Cursed Assignation.

Well, I'll say no more; but see
(True Protestants where e're you be)
You come not near such Villany,
nor grand Equivocation;
E're long I hope our Parliament,
Will rid that Superstitious Scent
From us, that we may rest Content,
each in his proper Station.


Printed in the Year 1689.

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