Down-right Honesty;
OR,
A Discourse between two well-meaning Protestants, concerning those Pam-
phlets lately dispers'd, to the Abuse of the Learned Clergy, and other Ho-
nest Men.
To the Tune of, The Spinning. Wheel.
|
GOod-morrow, Neighbour, now I vow,
|
since we so happily do meet,
|
If time and leasure will allow,
|
I in a Glass will freely Treat;
|
A pint or two I will bestow,
|
If you will to the Tavern go.
|
The other gave his free consent,
|
and like two Friends they both appear,
|
No longer did they Complement,
|
but to the Tavern straight they steer;
|
Where for the best of Wine they call,
|
And then they to Discoursing fall.
|
Neighbour, I pray what News d'ye hear,
|
as you the Town walk too and fro?
|
Faith, Weather's cold, and Coals are dear,
|
this is the truest News I know;
|
Which makes the Poor man full of care,
|
Who does that heavy burthen bear.
|
What think ye of those Pamphleteers,
|
who does disperse Seditious News,
|
To fill the Wise Judicious Ears,
|
can any thing such Crimes excuse?
|
They seem like Persons fully bent,
|
For to Affront the Government.
|
I think no Sober Man can like
|
those Mischiefs which such seem to brew,
|
They at the very Root do strike,
|
of Laws and pure Religion too;
|
As if they did delight to see
|
Their Native Nations Misery:
|
Strange Parables they do disperse,
|
which freely pass from hand to hand,
|
Which does forgotten things rehearse,
|
to raise Commotions in the Land;
|
To give fair opportunity,
|
To our most potent Enemy.
|
Men are compar'd to Hawks and Owls,
|
nay Buzzards, Ravens, Rooks and Pies,
|
By those mischievous single Souls,
|
whose bussness is inventing Lies:
|
For Parables and Paradox,
|
I think they will deserve the Stocks.
|
Or the severer Whipping-Post,
|
for Cuffing high Affairs of State;
|
Then see how these young Sparks will boast
|
or how like Mag-pies they wou'd prate
|
Hereafter of those weighty things,
|
I mean the Governments of Kings.
|
The Learned Clergy, Grave and Wise,
|
whom Europe never cou'd excell;
|
Are now compar'd to Rooks and Pies,
|
is this the way of doing well?
|
Let Men now other measures take,
|
Lest God at length should us forsake.
|
Let Protestants walk hand in hand,
|
in perfect Love, in Unity,
|
And like united Brothers, stand
|
against the common Enemy:
|
And then proud France can never wrong
|
This Land to which we do belong.
|
Here's a full Bumper to the King,
|
which does in Holland now remain,
|
May Angels Guard, and Heaven bring
|
him to the Royal Throne again;
|
Where long he may the Scepter sway,
|
And Loyal Souls his Laws obey.
|
|
FINIS.
|
|
|
|