Their trugtail’d frows were in a maze To see their town all on a blaze; They wept and waild and wrung their jaws, And cursed their States, which was the cause. May all that’s enemies to our King Be brought to such like banquetting. _Now, Hogan Mogans, curse your fates, For now we shall make you distressed States._ _A SONG ON THE DUKE’S LATE GLORIOUS SUCCESS OVER THE DUTCH._ One day, as I was sitting still Upon the side of Dunwich Hill, And looking on the ocean, By chance I saw De Ruyter’s fleet With Royal James’s squadron meet; In sooth it was a noble treat To see that brave commotion. I cannot stay to name the names Of all the ships that fought with James, Their number, or their tonnage; But this I say: the noble host Right gallantly did take its post, And covered all the hollow coast From Walderswyck to Dunwich. The French, who should have join’d the Duke, Full far astern did lag and look, Although their hulls were lighter: But nobly faced the Duke of York, Tho’ some may wink and some may talk, Right stoutly did his vessel stalk To buffet with De Ruyter. Well might you hear their guns, I guess, From Sizewell Gap to Easton Ness, The show was rare and sightly: They batter’d without let or stay, Until the evening of that day,-- ’Twas then the Dutchmen run away, The Duke had beat them tightly. Of all the battles gain’d at sea This was the rarest victory Since Philip’s Grand Armado. I will not name the rebel Blake; He fought for whoreson Cromwell’s sake, And yet was forced three days to take To quell the Dutch bravado. So now we’ve seen them take to flight This way and that, where’er they might, To windward or to leeward; Here’s to King Charles, and here’s to James, And here’s to all the captains’ names, And here’s to all the Suffolk dames, And here’s to the House of Stuart. _NEWS FROM THE COAST OF SPAIN;_ _Or_,