For by this Act it is thought fit That no man shall have benefit, Unless he first engage to be A rebel to eternity. Thus, in this pardon it is clear That nothing’s here and nothing’s there: I think our States do mean to choke us With this new Act of _hocus pocus_. Well, since this Act’s not worth a pin, We’ll pray our States to call it in, For most men think it ought to be Burnt by the hand of Gregory. Then, to conclude, here’s little joy For those that pray _Vive le Roy_! But since they’ll not forget our crimes, We’ll keep our mirth till better times. AN OLD SONG ON OLIVER’S COURT. Written in the year 1654, by Samuel Butler. HE that would a new courtier be And of the late coyn’d gentry; A brother of the prick-eared crew, Half a presbyter, half a Jew, When he is dipp’d in Jordan’s flood, And wash’d his hands in royal blood, Let him to our court repair, Where all trades and religions are. If he can devoutly pray, Feast upon a fasting day, Be longer blessing a warm bit Than the cook was dressing it; With covenants and oaths dispense, Betray his lord for forty pence, Let him, etc. If he be one of the eating tribe, Both a Pharisee and a Scribe, And hath learn’d the snivelling tone Of a flux’d devotion; Cursing from his sweating tub The Cavaliers to Beelzebub, Let him, etc. Who sickler than the city ruff, Can change his brewer’s coat to buff, His dray-cart to a coach, the beast Into Flanders mares at least; Nay, hath the art to murder kings, Like David, only with his slings, Let him, etc. If he can invert the word, Turning his ploughshare to a sword, His cassock to a coat of mail; ’Gainst bishops and the clergy rail; Convert Paul’s church into the mews; Make a new colonel of old shoes, Let him, etc. Who hath commission to convey Both sexes to _Jamaica_, There to beget new babes of grace On wenches hotter than the place, Who carry in their tails a fire Will rather scorch than quench desire, Let him, etc. THE PARLIAMENT ROUTED, OR HERE’S A HOUSE TO BE LET. I hope that England, after many jarres, Shall be at peace, and give no way to warres: O Lord, protect the generall, that he May be the agent of our unitie. Written upon the dissolution of the Long Parliament by Cromwell, on the 20th April, 1653, and extracted from the King’s Pamphlets, British Museum. June 3rd, 1653. To the tune of “Lucina, or, Merrily and Cherrily.”