Father Peter's Policy Discovereud: Or, the Prince of Wales Proed a Popish Perkin.  

IN Rome there is a most fearful Rout,  
And what do you think it is about,  
Because the Birth of the Babe's come out:  
Sing lulla by Babee, by, by, by.   

The Jesuits swear the Midwife told tales,  
And ruin'd His Highness the Prince of Wales;  
She's a Jade for her pains, Cutsplutter-anails:  
Sing lulla, etc.   

The Popish Crew did all protest,  
That twenty great Men would swear at least,  
They see His Welsh Highness creep out of his Nest:  
Sing lulla, etc.   

The Goggle-eyed Monster in the Tower,  
He peeped at his Birth for above an hour,  
And 'twas a true Prince of Wales he Swore:  
Sing lulla, etc.   

Another great Lord, both Grave and Wise,  
Stood peeping between Her Majesty's Thighs;  
He looked through a Glass for to save his Eyes;  
Sing lulla, etc.   

Both were so well satisfied,  
They knew the sweet Babe from a thousand they cried;  
'Twas Born with the Print of a Tile on his side:  
Sing lulla, etc.   

Some say 'tis a Prince of Wales by Right,  
And those that deny it 'tis out of Spite;  
But God send the Mother came honestly by't:  
Sing lulla, etc.   

Some Priest, they say, crept nigh her Honour,  
And sprinkled some good Holy Water upon her,  
Which made her conceive of what has undone her:  
Sing lulla, etc.   

The Papists thought themselves greatly blest,  
Before the young Babe was brought to the Test;  
But now they call Peter's a Fool of a Priest:  
Ting lulla, etc.   

The Priests in order to fly to the Pope,  
Are got on Board on the Foreign Hope,  
For all that stay here will be sure of a Rope:  
Sing lulla by Babee, by, by, by.    

LONDON, Printed for R. M. 1689.