The Jesuits Exaltation, OR, A Preparation for a turn at Tyburn.  
Tune is, hay Boys: up go we, Or, russel's Farewell.  

(1)  
I Walking near a Prison Wall,  
where Jesuits did lie,  
I heard them to St Bridget call,  
to help their Misery;  
Saying, with speed now intercede,  
poor Jesuits to free,  
Or Halbourn-Hill with Crowds they'll fill,  
while hay Boys up go we.   

(2)  
Ah! what's become of all our Creeds,  
and Mass the Antic Song?  
Our sweet Religious strings of Beeds  
are turned to Fetters strong;  
And father Peter he is fled,  
a woeful sighed to see;  
When some are shorter by the head,  
then hay boys up go we.   

(3)  
Some they are fled to Rome we find,  
while here we fret and ●oam,  
As being left in Tears behind,  
to end the Dance at home:  
To Tyburn we must take our way,  
to view that Crabbed Tree,  
And when we have no more to say,  
then hay boys up go we.   

(4)  
The very Lads of London Town,  
they did a Racket make,  
And pulled our Idol-Pictures down,  
then burned 'em at the Stake,  
Where Mary did her Heretics,  
in Smith-field-Rounds we see;  
I'Faith we did not like their Tricks,  
then hay boys up go we.   

(5)  
What Sumptuous Chapels did we build,  
adorned with Curious Paint,  
And was with Nuns and Friars fil●'d,  
a Praying to each Saint:  
But this at last is come to nought,  
we're tied from Liberty,  
Till we may be to Justice brought,  
then hay boys up go we.   

(6)  
Tho' Heretics they have devised  
to bring us to our Doom,  
Yet we shall all be Cannonized  
among the Saints of Rome,  
Which does much Joy and Comfort bring,  
that glorious sight to see,  
And when we have the Hempen string,  
then hay boys up go we.   

(7)  
Our Masses they are out of date,  
some says we were too bold;  
We did run on at such a rate,  
which was too hot to hold;  
And therefore we are overthrown,  
as all may plainly see,  
Now when the Gallows claims its own,  
then hay boys up go we.   

(8)  
To Newgate Goal we did repair,  
rude Ruffians to Convert,  
And showing of our Christian care,  
went with the Tyburn Cart;  
But little thought to see this day,  
a woeful Destiny,  
For we must pass the self same way,  
then hay boys up go we,   

(9)  
Now dearest Friends of Holy Church,  
we never shall see you more;  
Why did you leave us in the lurch,  
to pay the good old score?  
Our Bodies must become a Pledge,  
for former Villainy,  
And when we do ride in the Sledge,  
then hay boys up go we.   

(10)  
To sweet St. Francis let us Pray,  
to bring us strait to Glory,  
And that we may not lie one day  
nor night in Purgatory;  
Though we with Grief our hands may ring,  
under the Treble Tree,  
To Heaven we shall in a string,  
then hay Boys up go we.    

Printed for I. Bac●, 1688.