<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
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<DATE>2008-08-04</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>John Pas</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080716.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B01875">
<STC T="W">B6291A</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99886992</BIBNO>
<VID>181660</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="ballad">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 5 -->
<HEAD>The GENEVA BALLAD.</HEAD>
<OPENER>To the Tune of 48.</OPENER>
<LG>
<L>_OF all the <HI>Factions</HI> in the Town,</L>
<L>Mov'd by <HI>French Springs</HI> or <HI>Flemi&s;h Wheels,</HI></L>
<L>None treads <HI>Religion</HI> up&s;ide down,</L>
<L>Or tears <HI>Pretences</HI> out at heels,</L>
<L>Like <HI>Splay-mouth</HI> with his brace of Caps</L>
<L>Who&s;e Con&s;cience might be &s;can'd perhaps</L>
<L>By the Dimen&s;ions of his Chaps.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>He whom the Si&s;ters &s;o adore,</L>
<L>Counting his Actions all Divine,</L>
<L>Who when the Spirit hints, can roar,</L>
<L>And if occa&s;ion &s;erves can whine;</L>
<L>Nay he can bellow, bray or bark.</L>
<L>Was ever <HI>&s;ike a Beuk-larn'd Clerk,</HI></L>
<L>That &s;peaks all <HI>Lingua</HI>'s of the Ark.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>To draw in Pro&s;elytes like Bees,</L>
<L>With <HI>plea&s;ing Twang</HI> he tones his Pro&s;e,</L>
<L>He gives his Hand-kerchief a &s;queez,</L>
<L>And draws <HI>John Calvin</HI> through his No&s;e.</L>
<L>Motive on Motive he obtrudes,</L>
<L>With <HI>Slip-&s;tocking Similitudes,</HI></L>
<L>Eight U&s;es more, and &s;o concludes.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>When <HI>Monarchy</HI> began to bleed,</L>
<L>And <HI>Trea&s;on</HI> had a fine new name;</L>
<L>When <HI>Thames</HI> was <HI>balderda&s;h'd</HI> with <HI>Tweed,</HI></L>
<L>And Pulpits did like Beacons flame;</L>
<L>When <HI>Jeroboam</HI>'s Calves were rear'd,</L>
<L>And <HI>Laud</HI> was neither lov'd nor fear'd,</L>
<L>This <HI>Go&s;pel-Comet</HI> fir&s;t appear'd.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Soon his unhallowed Fingers &s;trip'd</L>
<L>His Sov'reign Liege of Power and Land,</L>
<L>And having &s;mote his Ma&s;ter, &s;lip'd</L>
<L>His Sword into his Fellows hand.</L>
<L>But he that wears his Eyes may note,</L>
<L>Oftimes the Butcher binds a Goat,</L>
<L>And leaves his Boy to cut her Throat.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Poor <HI>England</HI> felt his Fury then</L>
<L>Out-weigh'd Queen <HI>Mary</HI>'s many grains;</L>
<L>His very Preaching &s;lew more men,</L>
<L>Than <HI>Bonner</HI>'s Faggots, Stakes and Chains.</L>
<L>With <HI>Dog-&s;tar Zeal</HI> and Lungs like <HI>Boreas,</HI></L>
<L>He fought and taught; and what's notorious,</L>
<L><HI>De&s;troy'd his Lord</HI> to make him <HI>Glorious.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet drew for <HI>King</HI> and <HI>Parlement.</HI></L>
<L>As if the Wind could &s;tand <HI>North-South;</HI></L>
<L>Broke <HI>Mo&s;es</HI>'s Law with ble&s;t intent,</L>
<L>Murther'd and then he wip'd his mouth.</L>
<L>Oblivion alters not his ca&s;e,</L>
<L>Nor Clemency nor Acts of Grace</L>
<L>Can blanch an <HI>Aethiopian</HI>'s Face.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Ripe for Rebellion he begins</L>
<L>To rally up the Saints in &s;warms,</L>
<L>He bauls aloud, <HI>Sirs, leave your Sins,</HI></L>
<L>But whi&s;pers, <HI>Boys, &s;tand to your Arms,</HI></L>
<L>Thus he's grown in&s;olently rude,</L>
<L>Thinking his Gods can't be &s;ubdu'd,</L>
<L><HI>Money,</HI> I mean, and <HI>Multitude.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Magi&s;trates</HI> he regards no more</L>
<L>Than St. <HI>George</HI> or the Kings of <HI>Colen;</HI></L>
<L>Vowing he'l not conform before</L>
<L>The Old-wives wind their Dead in Woollen.</L>
<L>He calls the Bi&s;hop, <HI>Grey-beard Goff,</HI></L>
<L>And makes his Power as mere a Scoff,</L>
<L>As <HI>Dagon,</HI> when his Hands were off.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Hark! how he opens with full Cry!</L>
<L><HI>Halloo my Hearts, beware of</HI> ROME.</L>
<L>Cowards that are afraid to die</L>
<L>Thus make dome&s;tick Broils at home.</L>
<L>How quietly Great <HI>CHARLES</HI> might reign,</L>
<L>Would all the&s;e Hot-&s;purs cro&s;s the Main,</L>
<L>And preach down Popery in <HI>Spain.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The &s;tarry Rule of Heaven is fixt,</L>
<L>There's no Di&s;&s;en&s;ion in the Sky:</L>
<L>And can there be a Mean betwixt</L>
<L>Confu&s;ion and Conformity?</L>
<L>A Place divided never thrives:</L>
<L>'Tis bad where Hornets dwell in Hives,</L>
<L>But wor&s;e where Children play with Knives.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I would as &s;oon turn back to Ma&s;s,</L>
<L>Or change my Phra&s;e to <HI>Thee</HI> and <HI>Thou;</HI></L>
<L>Let the Pope ride me like an A&s;s,</L>
<L>And his Prie&s;ts milk me like a Cow:</L>
<L>As buckle to <HI>Smectymnuan</HI> Laws,</L>
<L>The bad effects o'th' Good Old Cau&s;e,</L>
<L>That have Dove's Plumes, but Vultur's Clawes.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>For 'twas the <HI>Haly Kirk</HI> that nurs'd</L>
<L>The <HI>Browni&s;ts</HI> and the <HI>Ranters</HI> Crew;</L>
<L>Foul Errors motly Ve&s;ture fir&s;t</L>
<L>Was Oaded in a Northern Blue.</L>
<L>And what's th' Enthu&s;ia&s;tick breed,</L>
<L>Or men of <HI>Knipperdoling</HI>'s Creed,</L>
<L>But Cov'nanters run up to &s;eed?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet they all cry, they love the King,</L>
<L>And make boa&s;t of their Innocence:</L>
<L>There cannot be &s;o vile a thing,</L>
<L>But may be colour'd with Pretence.</L>
<L>Yet when all's &s;aid, one thing I'll &s;wear,</L>
<L>No Subject like th' old Cavalier,</L>
<L>No Traitor like <HI>Jack</HI> &mdash;</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
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</TEXT>
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