A NEW SONG OF A New WONDER In the NORTH.  

FRom the farthermost part of the North we have News  
Of a man of some Note tha● received an Abuse:  
For a Dog to be tossed in a Blanket, 'tis known,  
But alas, what is that to the Mayor of a Town?  
For a great Magistrate  
To be used at that rate,  
All the World must allow  
It is very hard Fate.  
Ah! is it not strange? amongst Wonders we rank it,  
That the Mayor of a Town should be tossed in a Blanket.   

Had a drunken Tom Tinker the Penance received,  
Or a Vintner for stumming his Wine, who'd have grieved?  
Had they bolted a Baker for making light Bread,  
Or a Tailor for snipping a Yard for a Shred;  
Had it been but a Tapster  
For Nicking and Frothing,  
We' d been contented  
To take it for nothing.  
But as the case stands, who, alas! do'n't resent it,  
And wish, now 'tis done, that it might be prevented?   

Diogenes was said once to live in a Tub,  
But a Tenement of Blanket is such an odd Jobb  
For a man of his Rank, we must study the Fact,  
Unless 'twas to mind him of the late Woollen Act.  
However, 'twas unkind  
In the midst of his State,  
So to trouble his thoughts  
With th' approaches of Fate.  
For men when advanced to the height of their Glory,  
Have something to dream on besides Purgatory.   

For a new Convert in Relic to be wrapped,  
To Secure him from danger, it often has happened;  
But had this been such, in no Story we find  
A Mayor to cut Capors like a Witch in the wind;  
Sure there's something exceeding  
Must cause this extreme;  
Yet if we dare take it,  
As Old Wives do Dream,  
Unadvis'dly mistaking between waking and sleep  
He pounded the Parson instead of his Sheep:  
So in that cross humour they were forced for to shake him,  
To show him his Error as soon as they waked him.   

But now, to conclude, ah! Heaven be thank it,  
The Mayor had no harm that was tossed in a Blanket.    

●●NDON, Printed for S. D. next door to the Lion and Lamb in Cornhill, a Music Shop 1688.