The ESSEX BALLAD.  
To an old Tune new revived.  

IN Essex much renowned for Calves,  
And giving Verdicts in by halves,  
For Oysters, Agues, and for Knaves  
of Faction.   

One Peer, and Men of Worship four,  
With Gentlemen some half a score,  
Did draw in ten Dutch els of Boar  
to Action   

The Squire, whose Name does famous grow  
As Marcus Tullius Cicero,  
And keeps true Time with Sir A—  
— A—   

As freely gave himself his Hand,  
As once his Voice to rule the Land,  
By such as should not understand  
too rashly.   

The Rout that erst did roar so loud;  
A M— and a H—  
Are of their Choice now grown so proud,  
you'd wonder:   

And these State-Tinkers must be sent  
To stop the Leaks of Government,  
Grown crazy now, and almost rend  
in sunder.   

His Honour first set all his Hands,  
Each Members next in order stands;  
The Rabble, without If's or And's,  
subscratch it.   

The Cause, not obsolete, though old,  
Like Infects lay in Winter cold,  
And warm Petitions (they were told)  
would hatch it.   

Corn bore a price in Cromwel's days,  
Nor did we want a vent for Bays;  
Nay, even Calves were several ways  
advanced:   

And then we feared not wicked Plots;  
The Godly served to cut our Throats,  
Though Agents for the Pope, as Oats  
and Prance said.   

Those Reasons did so much prevail,  
That they petitioned Tooth and Nail,  
To have the Sovereign strike Sail,  
and stand by:   

While th' Parliament had sat some years,  
To drive out Pope with Presbyters,  
And try the Babylonish Peers,  
and Danby.   

For how can Corn and Wool be dear,  
Since Popish Lords drink little Beer,  
Eat Fish, and very seldom wear  
our Woollen?   

Nay, even their Horses are afraid  
Of Treason in the Manger laid;  
And the King's Evidence dismayed  
their Pullen.   

These Greivances, with others many,  
(Too long for Ballad of a Penny)  
Drove on a Herd of Clowns to any  
adventure.   

Those Brands, which in the days of Yore,  
Uumanufactured Parchment bore;  
And when Farms let, signed heretofore  
Indenture.   

In Hieroglyphic rows were set  
Like Oriental Alphabet;  
And lest the King should quite forget  
the Senate,   

Their Hinds lay whip and whistling by,  
Humbly to council Majesty;  
And what they could not read, would try  
to Pen at.   

The Milkmaid hoped old comfort's in't,  
Since Bodkins once did Breeches Mint,  
And strait subscribed their Butterprint  
to Creamer:   

But these were all but single gains,  
And hardly worth their toil and pains,  
The Cause wants vigour, and disdains  
a Dreamer.   

This dallying therefore to prevent,  
An Anti-popish Bull was sent,  
The Emblem of the Government,  
to baiting:   

Where Butchers, Tinkers, Ostlers go,  
Tapsters and Broom-men all a row;  
And Carters for the sport left Ho  
and Haiting.   

Th' unanswerable Scotchcloth Men,  
Taps, Sives, Chairs, and Coney-skin,  
Beggars and Boys all thronged, and then  
Egyptians.   

This Honourable Covey met,  
Hedge draws the Members Setting-Net,  
And gets from all, without Regret,  
Subscriptions.   

When this great Council was dismissed,  
They found that several Yards of Fist  
Were wanting to complete the List;  
and ordered,   

Seven Elders to disperse the Deed,  
To those of the Geneva Creed,  
Brethren to such as on the Tweed  
are bordered.   

These trudged a Conventicling,  
To pray the Lord, and beg the King,  
The Congregation signed the thing  
Sans Scruple   

Those Scholars that could write, they bribe  
To prompt and proxy every side;  
And these did personally subscribe  
Cextuple.   

But now the time draws on apace,  
And Member itches for his place,  
The Knights and Gentlemen five brace  
assemble:   

And brought the Muster-Roll to Court,  
Though Charles did hardly thank 'em for't;  
But made 'em with a sharp retort  
to tremble.   

Now God preserve our King and Queen  
From Piebald Coats, and Ribbons green;  
Let neither Knave nor Fool be seen  
about 'em:   

And those that will not say Amen,  
Let 'em Petition once again,  
For every one the Shire has, ten  
to rout 'em.   
FINIS.   

Printed at LONDON, in the Year 1680.