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<ETS>
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<CHANGE>
<DATE>2008-07-05</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080619.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B04678">
<STC T="W">P1396A</STC>
<BIBNO T="oclc">52614829</BIBNO>
<VID>176020</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 18 -->
<HEAD>To His HIGHNESS the <HI>Prince of Orange,</HI> The Humble ADDRESS and SUPPLICATION of the <HI>PARISHONERS</HI> and <HI>INHABITANTS</HI> Of the Famous TOWN of LINTON SUBMETRAPOLITAN of TIVIOTDALE.</HEAD>
<DIV2 TYPE="prologue">
<HEAD>PROLOGUE</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>VIctorious SIR, &s;till faithful to thy Word,</L>
<L>Who Conquer more by Kindne&s;s then by Sword,</L>
<L>As thy Ance&s;tors brave with matchle&s;s Vigor</L>
<L>Cau&s;'d <HI>Hogen Mogon</HI> make &s;o great a Figure.</L>
<L>So Thou that art great Britains only <HI>Moy&s;es;</HI></L>
<L>To guard our Ancient <HI>Thir&s;tle</HI> with the <HI>Ro&s;es:</HI></L>
<L>The di&s;cords of the <HI>Haro,</HI> in tune to bring</L>
<L>And crub the pride of Lillies in the Spring.</L>
<L>Permit, Great SIR, poor Us among&s;t the Pre&s;s</L>
<L>In humble terms, to make this blunt Addre&s;s;</L>
<L>In <HI>Linton</HI> Ver&s;e, for as your Highne&s;s knows</L>
<L>You have good &s;tore of None&s;en&s;e el&s;e in Pro&s;e.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="body of poem">
<LG>
<L>SIR, fir&s;t of all that it may plea&s;e</L>
<L>Your Highne&s;s to give Us an ea&s;e,</L>
<L>Of our Oppre&s;&s;ions more or le&s;s,</L>
<L>E&s;pecially that Knave the Ce&s;s.</L>
<L>And Poverty for Pity crys</L>
<L>To modifie our dear Exci&s;e:</L>
<L>It You'l not tru&s;t Us when we &s;ay't,</L>
<L>Faith, SIR. We are not able to pay't:</L>
<L>Which makes Us &s;igh when we &s;hould &s;leep,</L>
<L>And fa&s;t when We &s;hould go to Meat:</L>
<L>Ye<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter"> &s;carce can get it when to borrow,</L>
<L>Yet drink we mu&s;t to <GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="3 letters">cken <UNCLEAR>&s;orrow,</UNCLEAR></L>
<L>For this our Grief, SIR, makes Us now</L>
<L>Sleep &s;eldom &s;ound till We be fow.</L>
<L>SIR, Let no needle&s;s Forces &s;tand,</L>
<L>To plague this poor, but valiant Land.</L>
<L>And let no <HI>Rhetorick</HI> procure</L>
<L>Pen&s;ions only but to the Poor.</L>
<L>That Spendthri&s;t Courtiers get no &s;hare</L>
<L>To make the King's Exchequer bare.</L>
<L>Then Valiant SIR, We beg at large,</L>
<L>You will free Quarters quite di&s;charge.</L>
<L>We dwell upon the King's high Street,</L>
<L>And &s;carce a day we mi&s;s &s;ome Cheat.</L>
<L>For Hor&s;e and Foot when they come by,</L>
<L>SIR, be they Hungry, Cold or Dry;</L>
<L>They Eat and Drink, and burn our Peats&punc;</L>
<L>With feind a Farthing in their Breicks.</L>
<L>De&s;troy our Hey, and pre&s;s our Hor&s;e,</L>
<L>Whiles break our Head's and that is wor&s;e</L>
<L>Con&s;ume both Men and Hor&s;es Meat,</L>
<L>And make both Wives and Bairns to greit,</L>
<L>By what is &s;aid your Highne&s;s may</L>
<L>Judge if two Stipends we can pay:</L>
<L>And therefore if You wi&s;h us well</L>
<L>You mu&s;t with all &s;peed Reconcile;</L>
<L>Two Jangling Sons of the &s;ame Mother,</L>
<L><HI>Elliot</HI> and <HI>Hay</HI> with one another;</L>
<L>Pardon Us, SIR, for all Your Witt,</L>
<L>I fear that prove a kittle Putt.</L>
<L>Which tho' the wi&s;er Sort condole,</L>
<L>Our <HI>Linton</HI> Wives &s;till blow the Coal;</L>
<L>And Women here as well we ken,</L>
<L>Would have Us all <HI>John Thom&s;ons</HI> Men.</L>
<L>Therefore, dear SIR, e're You be gone,</L>
<L>Ca&s;t Kirk and Meeting-Hou&s;e in one;</L>
<L>Who&s;e mutual Charities are as &s;cant</L>
<L>As Papi&s;ts is to Prote&s;tant.</L>
<L>SIR, it was &s;aid ere I was born,</L>
<L>Who blows be&s;t bears away the Horn;</L>
<L>And he that Lives and Preaches be&s;t</L>
<L>Should win the Pulpit from the re&s;t.</L>
<L>The next Petition that We make,</L>
<L>Is that for brave Old <HI>Teviots</HI> &s;ake,</L>
<L>Who had great Kindne&s;s for this Place,</L>
<L>You'l move the Duke our Ma&s;ters Grace;</L>
<L>To put a Knock upon our Steeple,</L>
<L>To &s;hew the Hours to Countrey People:</L>
<L>For We that live into the Town,</L>
<L>Our &s;ight grows dim by Sun go down.</L>
<L>And charge, SIR, our Street to mend,</L>
<L>And Ca&s;&s;ey it from end to end.</L>
<L>Pay but the Workmen for their pains,</L>
<L>And we will joyntly lead the Stones</L>
<L>In ea&s;e your Highne&s;s put him to it,</L>
<L>The Mercat Cu&s;toms well may do it,</L>
<L>As for him&s;elf he is not ra&s;h,</L>
<L>Becau&s;e he wants the ready Ca&s;h;</L>
<L>For if your Highne&s;s for &s;ome Rea&s;ons,</L>
<L>Should honour <HI>Linton</HI> with your Pre&s;ence;</L>
<L>Your milk white Pelfrey would turn brown,</L>
<L>E're you ryde half but throw the Town.</L>
<L>And that would put upon our Name,</L>
<L>A blot of everla&s;ting Shame</L>
<L>Who are reputed Hone&s;t Fellows,</L>
<L>And &s;tout as ever <HI>William Wallace.</HI></L>
<L>La&s;tly, Great SIR, di&s;charge us all.</L>
<L>To go to Court without a Call.</L>
<L>Di&s;charge Laird <HI>Gifferd</HI> and <HI>Hog Yards,</HI></L>
<L><HI>James Dowglas</HI> and our <HI>Linton</HI> Lairds;</L>
<L>Old <HI>William Younger</HI> and <HI>Geordy Purdy,</HI></L>
<L>Laird <HI>Giffoord, Scroges,</HI> and little <HI>Swordie</HI></L>
<L>And <HI>Engli&s;h Andrew,</HI> who has skill,</L>
<L>To Knap at every word &s;o well.</L>
<L>Let <HI>King&s;ide</HI> &s;tay for the Town-Head,</L>
<L>Till that old Peevi&s;h Wife be Dead;</L>
<L>And that they go on no pretence,</L>
<L>To put this Place to great Expence.</L>
<L>Nor yet &s;hall contribute their &s;hare,</L>
<L>To any who are going there.</L>
<L>To &s;trive to be the greate&s;t <HI>Minione</HI></L>
<L>Or plead for this, or that Opinion</L>
<L>If we have any things to &s;pair,</L>
<L>Poor Widows they &s;hould be our Care:</L>
<L>The Fatherle&s;s, the Blind, the Lame,</L>
<L>That Sterve, and to Beg think &s;hame.</L>
<L>So Fare-well, SIR, here is no Trea&s;on</L>
<L>But wealth of Ryme and part of Rea&s;on.</L>
<L>And for to &s;ave &s;ome needle&s;s Coa&s;t,</L>
<L>We &s;end this our Addre&s;s by Po&s;t.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="epilogue">
<HEAD>EPILOGUE.</HEAD>
<L>THrice Noble <HI>ORANGE,</HI> Ble&s;s'd be the Time,</L>
<L>Such fair Fruit pro&s;per'd in our <HI>Northren</HI> Clime:</L>
<L>Who&s;e Sweet and Cordial Joyce affoords us Matter,</L>
<L>And Sauce to make our Capons eat the better.</L>
<L>Long may Thou thrive and &s;till thy Arms Advance,</L>
<L>Till <HI>England</HI> &s;end an <HI>Orange</HI> into <HI>France:</HI></L>
<L>Well guarded thorrow proud <HI>Neptun's</HI> Wawes, and then</L>
<L>What's &s;weet to us, may prove &s;our Sauce to them.</L>
<L>As <HI>England</HI> does, &s;o <HI>Caledonia</HI> boa&s;ts,</L>
<L>She'l Fight with <HI>Orange</HI> for the <HI>Lord of Ho&s;ts.</HI></L>
<L>And tho' the Tyrrant hath un&s;heath'd his Sword,</L>
<L>Fy fear him not, he never keep't his word.</L>
</DIV2>
</DIV1>
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