Dr. Robert Wild's LAST LEGACY, OR A POEM SENT With a Guinney to Mr. B. D. for a New-years-Gift. December 30. 1678.  

SIr, since the Proclamation from the King,  
For apprehending any Man, or Thing  
Of whom we may be jealous▪ I have got  
One able to Discover all the Plot▪  
By the Great Cross he weareth, you will see  
Ground to suspect, he Catholic may be.  
Long hidden in a Corner he had been,  
And loath I found him to be known or seen:  
His Words but few, and those in Latin too;  
What you can make of him, I pray you do:  
For though he sets a Good Face on the Thing,  
And pleads that he hath Countenance from the King,  
(As too too many Counterfeit, you know  
Delude and cheat the World by pleading so)  
He is no Native; but from foreign Parts  
Came over to bewitch our English hearts.  
Seized on as soon as landed, and conveyed  
Into the Tower, and there a Priz'ner made;  
There he was Tried, & Cast: Thence made Escape,  
And now goes Currant under Royal Shape:  
Yet you'll suspect him by his Blushing so,  
For that's an Argument of Gild, you know.  
He goes by Name of Guinney; new-coined names,  
And new-named Coins are Jesuitish Games;  
Give me old Gold, with English names; like these  
Crowns, Nobles, Angels, and Jacobusses.  
I must not be misconstrued, let him wear  
The Image of the Laurel he doth bear,  
And never given to change; may no Disaster  
Ever prevail to make him change his Master▪  
For I prefer, and so all Subjects True,  
An Old Jacobus far before A New:  
It is the Matter, not the Form I charge;  
And here in his Impeachment might be large,  
As far as from one Indie to the other,  
Against both Gold and Silver his pale Brother.  
We find St. Peter in the days of Old  
(That was the Golden-Age that hated Gold;)  
Had neither Gold nor Silver, but when they  
Usurped the Chair, they banished Faith away:  
And when these once forsake the Triple Crown,  
Both Pope and Popery must tumble down.  
'Tis these set men together by the Ears,  
Put Difference 'twixt the Commons and the Peers:  
These have the great Command at Sea & Land,  
They Raise the Army, they can it Disband:  
They Hatched and Brooded the late cursed Intent,  
To Kill the King, and Change the Government.  
For them— vote, by them they Rise,  
'Tis Love to them, upholds Pluralities.  
For them the Lawyer's brawl; They fool the Wise:  
They cast a Mist before the Judge's Fies:  
They pay the Pensioner, the Pimp, the Miss:  
They brought the Treasurer to what he is.  
If they don't fetch him off, off flies his Head.  
And who can helped, They cannot raise the Dead.  
Their Charge is infinite, I must give over,  
Let Prance the Silver-smith the rest Discover.  
Mean time, do you Sir under Lock and Key  
Keep Guinney safe, for fear he steal away,  
For if but once he can get out of Door,  
Twenty to one, you never see him more.    

London, Printed for A. B.