THE FANATIC RAMPANT OR AN ELECTION AT CAMBRIDGE.  

ONE day I heard a zealous shout  
I then looked up and lo the rout  
of Saints were come to town.  
Who by their Hats right gravely set.  
And Collar-bands I guess were met  
to cry the Bishops down.   

But see how grossly I did err.  
For they came only to prepare  
against that Godly bustle.  
And therefore did most fervently  
With carnal Throats extended cry,  
a Russel, yea, a Russel.   

Some cried a Russel, some again  
Mistook the Name and cried Amen.  
some with erected fist  
Cried O, we find by Revelation  
That this is he must heal the Nation  
and hamstring Antichrist.   

At length there comes me a Freeholder  
With head inclined to the left shouder  
and Circumcised hair.  
Who with his snout all wet with snivel  
and looks enough to scare a Devil  
Did thus begin his Prayer.   

Lord, if thou dost thy Saint's regard  
Look on the keepers of thy Herd  
Even on thy chosen Russel.  
See but what honour we have done him  
And then, thou needs must pour upon him  
Thy blessings by the Bushel.   

Thy tender flock (Lord) he'll not pound  
but doth regard the Poor.  
Lord he hath done more for my Wife  
Than ere I did in all my life,  
O blessed Senator.   

Do thou in time his Worship bring  
To be, to be, a Lordish thing:  
as was his noble Kin.—  
Thou seest how he alone doth stand,  
And hates the great ones of the Land.  
O well doth he begin.   

Then give him grace Lord not to cease  
Till he hath broke the Cord of Peace,  
That Girdle of the Whore.  
That we again may see that day.  
In which we all may preach and pray.  
and then i'll ask no more.   

With that I spied an Image fair  
High mounted in his stately Chair.  
I think to mock the Pope.  
Down Brethren, to the Gallows gang.  
Said I, he shall not burn but hang  
though I pay for the Rope.