And of us nothing have,
Then by a vote ex tempore We are to prison sent, Mark’d with the name of enemy, To King and Parliament:
And during our imprisonment,
Their lawless bulls do plunder
A license to their soldiers,
Our houses for to plunder.
And if their hounds do chance to smell
A man whose fortunes are
Of some account, whose purse is full,
Which now is somewhat rare;
A monster now, delinquent term’d, He is declared to be, And that his lands, as well as goods, Sequester’d ought to be.
As if our prisons were too good,
He is to Yarmouth sent,
By virtue of a warrant from
The King and Parliament.
Thus in our royal sovereign’s name,
And eke his power infused,
And by the virtue of the same,
He and all his abused.
For by this means his castles now
Are in the power of those
Who treach’rously, with might and main,
Do strive him to depose.
Arise, therefore, brave British men,
Fight for your King and State,
Against those trait’rous men that strive
This realm to ruinate.
’Tis Pym, ’tis Pym and his colleagues,
That did our woe engender;
Nought but their lives can end our woes,
And us in safety render.
THE MAN O’ THE MOON.
Hogg, in his second series of Jacobite Relics, states that he “got this song among some old papers belonging to Mr. Orr of Alloa,” and that he never met with it elsewhere. In his first series he printed a Scottish song beginning—
“Then was a man came fron the moon
And landed in our town, sir,
And he has sworn a solemn oath
That all but knaves must down, sir.”
In Martin Parker’s foregoing ballad, “When the King enjoys his own again,” there is also an allusion to the man in the moon:—
“The Man in the Moon
May wear out his shoon
By running after Charles his wain;”
as it would appear that the “Man in the Moon,” was the title assumed by an almanack-maker of the time of the Commonwealth, who, like other astronomers and astrologers, predicted the King’s restoration. In this song the “Man o’ the Moon” clearly signifies King Charles.
The man o’ the moon for ever!
The man o’ the moon for ever!
We’ll drink to him still
In a merry cup of ale—
Here’s the man o’ the moon for ever!
The man o’ the moon, here’s to him!
How few there be that know him!
But we’ll drink to him still
In a merry cup of ale—
The man o’ the moon, here’s to him!
Brave man o’ the moon, we hail thee,
The true heart ne’er shall fail thee;
For the day that’s gone
And the day that’s our own—
Brave man o’ the moon, we hail thee.
We have seen the bear bestride thee,
And the clouds of winter hide thee,
But the moon is changed
And here we are ranged—
Brave man o’ the moon, we bide thee.
The man o’ the moon for ever!
The man o’ the moon for ever!
We’ll drink to him still
In a merry cup of ale—
Here’s the man o’ the moon for ever!
We have grieved the land should shun thee,
And have never ceased to mourn thee,
But for all our grief
There was no relief—
Now, man o’ the moon, return thee.
There’s Orion with his golden belt,
And Mars, that burning mover,
But of all the lights
That rule the nights,
The man o’ the moon for ever!
THE TUB-PREACHER.
By Samuel Butler (Author of Hudibras).
To the tune of “The Old Courtier of the Queen’s.”
With face and fashion to be known,
With eyes all white, and many a groan,
With neck awry and snivelling tone,
And handkerchief from nose new-blown,
And loving cant to sister Joan;
’Tis a new teacher about
