Lampoons.  
Over the Lord D—rs Door.  
UNhappy Age, and we in it,  
When Truth doth go for Treason;  
Every Blockhead's Will for Law,  
And Coxcombs Sense for Reason.  
Religion's made a Paud of State,  
To serve the Pimps and Panders,  
Our Liberty a Prison Gate,  
And Irishmen Commanders.  
O wretched is our Fate!  
What Dangers do we run,  
We must be Wicked to be Great,  
And to be Just, undone.  
'Tis thus our Sovereign keeps his Word,  
And makes the Nation Great;  
To Irishmen he trusts the Sword,  
To Jesuits the State.   

Over the Lord S— rys Door.  
IF Cecil the Wise,  
From his Grave should arise,  
And look the fat Beast in the Face,  
He'd take him from Mass,  
And turn him to Grass,  
And swear he was none of his Race.   

To the Speaking-Head.  
I'M come my future Fate to seek,  
Speak then, Celestial Blockhead speak.  

Answer.  

Hadst thou not consulted with the Witch at Rome,  
Thou needest not thus, like Saul, to Endor come  
To seek out (Brother Solid-head) thy doom,  
The Hearts of all thy Friends are gone;  
Gazing they stand, and grieving round thy Throne,  
And scarce believe thou art the Martyrs Son.   

Those whom thou favourest, merit not thy Grace;  
They, to their Interest, Sacrifice thy Peace,  
And will in Sorrow make thee end thy days.   

Tempt not thy Fate too far, do not rely  
On force or fraud; Why shouldst thou Monarch, why,  
Live unbeloved, and unlamented dye?     

The Ghost.  
A Papist died, as 'twas Jehovah's Will,  
And his poor Soul went trudging down to Hell!  
Where, when he did arrive, just at the Entry,  
He found a Mastive Devil standing Sentry,  
With flaming Eyes, and Face as black as Soot,  
A Musqueteer with a great Cloven Foot:  
And who goes there? ay, a poor Papist Ghost,  
That's come to dwell upon the Stygian Coast.  
Stay where you are, and do not press so hard,  
For I must call the Captain of the Guard;  
He gave me Orders to let none come in,  
But only such as should have leave from him.  
The Captain called, accordingly came forth,  
A Devil of integrity and Worth,  
Who all in noblest Scarlet being dressed,  
With a most delicate fine Embroidered Vest,  
He asks the Ghost, with a great Voice, as loud  
As mighty Thunder, breaking from a Cloud,  
What was the business? Sir, I am come to dwell,  
If you will please to give me leave, in Hell.  
Damn you, you whoreson Dog, said he to him,  
I love my Master, and you shan't come in;  
For if above you Eat your God, I fear,  
Should you come in, you'd Eat the Devil here.   

A Dialogue between a Loyal Addressor, and a Blunt Whiggish Clown.  
UNgrateful Wretch! Canst thou pretend a cause  
To fear the loss of Liberty and Laws?  
Has not the King been at a vast expense  
To raise the Gallant Troops in thy Defence?  
Did he not promise in a Proclamation,  
To rule by Law at's Coronation?  Clown. 
Put has he not already damned the Test  
And sure that Prince's Word is but a jest,  
Who Rules an Army, and Obeys a Priest;  
Nor can his Solemn Oath make us much safer;  
His Sword is Steel, his God is but a Wafer.  
FINIS.