The DOWNFALL OF THE whigs: Or, Their Lamentation for Fear of A Loyal Parliament.  
To the Tune of, Patrick Flemmen he was a Valiant Soldier.  

I.  
Didst ever see the like, dear Brother,  
Our Saints they are falling all together?  
The Presbyter, ' Pendant, and Quaker,  
We've neither Hopes in the House, nor Speaker!   

II.  
The Torys Drink to the Confusion  
Of our Damned Members for the Exclusion;  
And Curses our Assosiation,  
Z— s, let us run quite out of the Nation.   

III.  
How dared they make L'Estrange a Member!  
Our Mortal Foe, and bold Offender?  
Whom our late Parli'ment Attempted,  
They'd Hanged him if he had not prevented.   

IV.  
At Westminster under our Noses,  
Our numerous Whigs o'er Powers Opposes,  
And by two Thousand Votes Out-poled Us,  
The Devil I am sure, hath forsaken or sold Us!   

V.  
Shall the Saints who used to have the Glories,  
To Vote and Spew out all the Torys,  
The King no Money must have, they agreed on't  
Unless he'll pawn his Crown and Head on't!   

VI  
This Parli'ment will give us Caution  
As formerly, to mind every Motion;  
But if th' Old Cause should be overruled,  
They must expect by the Rout for to be Schooled.   

VII.  
York and Durham, Oxford, Cambridge,  
Gloucester, Winchester, with Advantage;  
Nay, every County and Corporation,  
And the Devil a Word of Arbitration.   

VIII.  
Dangerfield in the Name of Monmouth,  
Used to Knight Men, now's in the Dungeon:  
Him we saved to save Oats our Father,  
But now we fear they'll Hang both together.   

IX.  
Now to save our Saints from Disasters,  
We'll Snugg in the Bosoms of our Sisters.  
If the Parli'ment send for to Gail us,  
Their Smocks our Surplis, none shall Unveil us.   
FINIS.   

Printed for J. Dean, in Cranborn-Street, over-against Newport-House in Leicester-Fields.