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<DATE>2008-06-05</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080514.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B05878">
<STC T="W">S3903</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99885051</BIBNO>
<VID>182899</VID>
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<TEXT>
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<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 18 -->
<HEAD>Sir William Waller's KINDNESS TO THE <HI>Cities of London and We&s;tmin&s;ter,</HI> Particularly Expre&s;t.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>SIr <HI>Edmondbury Godfrey</HI> was much taller,</L>
<L>Than the Right Wor&s;hipful Sir <HI>William Waller.</HI></L>
<L>But what of that? at high and low they aim,</L>
<L>No rank from them a priviledge can claim.</L>
<L>Well may <HI>Goliah</HI> &s;mite you with his Sling,</L>
<L>He will not &s;pare an inoffen&s;ive King.</L>
<L>You have been zealous to &s;upport our Nation,</L>
<L>And <HI>Rome</HI> has found you a &s;evere vexation.</L>
<L>Ten thou&s;and times their old unerring Pope,</L>
<L>Has wi&s;h'd you <HI>Godfrey</HI>'s Cravat, or a Rope.</L>
<L>How wou'd they clap their wings, their hearts and hands,</L>
<L>To &s;ee you bound with Inqui&s;ition bands?</L>
<L>How wou'd they drown them&s;elves in good rich Sack,</L>
<L>Might they but &s;ee you on a <HI>Frenchmans</HI> Rack?</L>
<L>No wonder you and <HI>Rome</HI> are now at odds,</L>
<L>Alas! they cry out, you have burn'd their gods.</L>
<L>And now what do they do? &s;tudy, and wait,</L>
<L>To heap the wor&s;t of mi&s;chiefs on your pate.</L>
<L>Revenge doth boyl, it is exceeding hot,</L>
<L>Fain wou'd they have your Wor&s;hips Head i'th Pot;</L>
<L>But they're &s;upplanted yet, as is their Plot.</L>
<L>Revenge cryes <HI>Rome,</HI> revenge cryes <HI>France</HI> and <HI>Spain,</HI></L>
<L>For all the Images that he has &s;lain.</L>
<L>Revenge your &s;elves for the&s;e and &s;uch like deeds,</L>
<L>Seek out revenge for all your late burnt Beads.</L>
<L>Give <HI>London</HI> yet another &s;ixty &s;ix,</L>
<L>For burning both your Beads and Crucifix.</L>
<L>And in the mid&s;t of the&s;e great flames, remember,</L>
<L>'Twas &s;uch as he that made a <HI>fifth November</HI></L>
<L>To be a Holiday: make up the pyle</L>
<L>Higher and hotter, then you'll make us &s;mile.</L>
<L>Bani&s;h your love, your kindne&s;s and your pity,</L>
<L>As they do Je&s;uits from their great City.</L>
<L>Thus little <HI>Waller,</HI> the&s;e enraged Cattle,</L>
<L>Do at a di&s;tance give your Wor&s;hip Battle.</L>
<L>Revenge delays; and they are even &s;ick,</L>
<L>To &s;uck the blood of &s;uch a Heretick.</L>
<L>The Pope wou'd almo&s;t give his triple Crown,</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1 span">ve you fetter'd in a Popi&s;h Town.</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1 span">d their Veins, they 're like to bur&s;t,</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1 span">inks cry let them do their wor&s;t.</L>
<L>You fear no Colours, like a little Lyon,</L>
<L>You Rampant-Wi&s;e defend the Walls of <HI>Sion.</HI></L>
<L>You let them Plot, then &s;hew their Prie&s;ts a Trick;</L>
<L>You Catch the Plotters in the very Nick.</L>
<L>Many by your Indu&s;try have been taken,</L>
<L>For Fear of you, &s;ome have the Land For&s;aken,</L>
<L>Your <HI>Argus</HI> Eyes the Secret'&s;t Corners '&s;py;</L>
<L>As from the Pe&s;tilence, from you they Fly;</L>
<L>Few grow &s;o Hardy now to &s;tand and Dye.</L>
<L>How many Nights have you refus'd your Sleep,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t we did Slumber, you our Gates did Keep;</L>
<L>As though you Shepherd were, and we your Sheep.</L>
<L>The Prie&s;ts like Wolves from place to place you hurry'd,</L>
<L>And tho&s;e you Catch'd, Law and <HI>Jack Ketch</HI> has Worry'd.</L>
<L>What Zealous <HI>Godfrey</HI> left undone, we Hope</L>
<L>You will Compleat, no thanks unto the <HI>Pope.</HI></L>
<L>But &s;tay, who Thanks you for your Pains and Care?</L>
<L>His Royal Maje&s;ty, and our Lord Mayor.</L>
<L>All Sober men, of all Degrees and Ranks,</L>
<L>Do come and offer up their Hearty Thanks.</L>
<L>We may Ble&s;s God that &s;uch Good Magi&s;trates,</L>
<L>Do now Re&s;ide within our City Gates.</L>
<L>Plotters loo&s;e Ground, and indeed it is no Wonder,</L>
<L>They make their Bands, you Break them A&s;under:</L>
<L>They Tye, and you Untye; they Plot and Contrive,</L>
<L>You Counter-Plot, how can the Plotters Thrive?</L>
<L>You give them Ju&s;tice: But their good Behaviour</L>
<L>Will not allow them any Grain of Favour.</L>
<L>They cannot hope for Favour or for Love,</L>
<L>Till they le&s;s Cruel and le&s;s Bloody prove.</L>
<L>If e're the&s;e <HI>Blackamoors</HI> &s;hou'd change their Skins,</L>
<L>And once Repent for all their Trayt'rous Sins.</L>
<L>Your Pity then wou'd reach from hence to <HI>Rome,</HI></L>
<L>And you wou'd freely bid them welcom Home;</L>
<L>May you be Safe (Dear Sir) till that day come.</L>
<L>May tho&s;e that wi&s;h you ill be ever Ble&s;t,</L>
<L>With <HI>Gerald</HI>'s Dagger in his Popi&s;h Brea&s;t.</L>
<L>Once l'le compare; may tho&s;e that wi&s;h you Ill,</L>
<L>Be found like <HI>Godfrey</HI> on a <HI>Primro&s;e-Hill.</HI></L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>FINIS</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
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