A LETTER FROM LEWIS the Great, To JAMES the Less, His Lieutenant in IRELAND. WITH Reflections by way of ANSWER to the said LETTER, or serious Contemplations at an Unseasonable Time.  

I.  
TO James our Lieutenant this greeting we sand:  
As you hope to preserve us your Patron and Friend,  
As you trust to the virtue of us and your Wife,  
Who leads in your absence a dissolute life;  
Now you've sold us your Land,  
Obey Our Command,  
As your Spouse does our Pego when e're it will st— ,  
And what I enjoin you be sure to observe,  
Since you know not to Rule, I will teach you to Serve.   

II.  
To reduce our new Subjects, we sent you 'tis true,  
But be sure take upon you no more than your due;  
Submit to the Fetters yourself have put on,  
You've the Name of a King but the Majesties gone.  
For your bold Son-in-Law,  
The valiant Nassaw,  
Who valves not you nor myself of a straw,  
Will neither be cullied nor bubbled like you,  
I've a Prospect already of what he will do.   

III.  
Let not Infant or Bedrid your pity implore,  
You've lost all your Kingdoms by that heretofore,  
A heretics life like a Dog's I do prise,  
murder all that oppose you, or 'gainst you dare rise:  
They were Subjects to you,  
Therefore make 'em all rue,  
And either give them, or I'll give you your due:  
I aclowledge your folly has made me more wise,  
I see with my own, and not Jesuits eyes.   

IV.  
These Courses in Ireland, I charge you to steer,  
In the Head of your Army be sure to appear,  
You're a soldier of Fortune and fight for your pay,  
You know your reward, if you once run away;  
Either Conquest or Death,  
I to you bequeath,  
And therefore prepare for a Shrowd or a wreathe:  
So thus I commit you to one of the Two,  
If I see you no more heat, I bid you adieu.    

Reflections on the LETTER, &c.  
To the same Tune.  

I.  
WHEN that Remnant of Royalty Jemmy the Cully,  
Had received this Epistle from Lewis the Bully,  
His Countenance changed, and for madness he cried,  
I've the Devil to my Friend, and his Dam to my Bride;  
Sure I am the first  
That's in all things accursed,  
Nor can I determine which Plague is the worst,  
That of losing my Realms or the News I've received,  
Which from any Hand else, I could ne're have believed.   

II.  
I find they agreed when for Ireland they sent me,  
And if I knew how, 'tis high time to repent me;  
I've abandoned my reason to pleasure a Trull,  
Who has made me her Bubble, her cuckolded and Fool;  
We're all in the Pit,  
Our designs are besh— t,  
And hither I'm sent to recover my Wit:  
If this be the fortune proud east does bring,  
would I'd been a Tinker instead of a King.   

III.  
How or which way to turn me, or whither to go,  
By the Faith of a Jesuit I'm a Dog if I know;  
For this going to War I do mortally hate,  
Tho' of Sieges and Battles I ever could prate;  
I thought I had Valour,  
But I find it was Choler,  
Tho' thirty years I have been Lewis's Scholar;  
I've traced all his Policies, Maxims and Rules,  
By which I've attained to be chief of his Fools.   

IV.  
Had I courage to die I'd refuse to survive,  
I'm butted already altho' I 'm alive,  
My Story's like that of unfortunate Jack,  
I've shuffled and cut till I've quiter lost the Pack:  
He that trusts to the Pope,  
No better must hope,  
Or to Lewis or she whom that Pagan does grope:  
For no Monarch must ever expect a good Life,  
Who is rid by a Priest, or a damned Popish Wife.   

V.  
May Lewis succeed me in all Circumstances,  
His Arms unsuccessful where e're he advances,  
May his ill gotten Laurels be blasted and dry,  
May a Shrowd be denied him when e're he does die;  
May his Land be o're-run,  
By that Champion our Son:  
So I'll close up with her who that mischief begun;  
May the Curse of three Kingdoms for ever attend her,  
While to WILLIAM and MARY my Crown I surrender.   
FINIS.