A Song upon the RANDIZVOUS ON Hounsley-Heath, With a Parallel of the Destruction of our English Turks in the West, and the Mahomitans in Hungary: How the Christian Army, Composed of Forty Thousand Men, took New-Hassel, relieved Grand, Defeated the Turks Army of Sixty Thousand Men in two days time.  
To the Tune, Hark, Hark The Thundering Cannons Roar, etc.  
This may be Printed, R. L. S.  

OUR Comet or the Blazing-Star,  
At Staffords Death was seen so far;  
It plainly pointed out this year,  
'Gainst Whiggish Calculation.  
This Year which Gadberry Foretold  
That English Mines should turn to Gold.  
Great Princes shall their Empires hold,  
By Christians preservation.   

Five Years agone, few thought to see,  
On Hounsley-Heath Great James to be;  
Balance of Christian Princis he,  
All Europe's Dread and Wonder.  
A Handful of his Army there,  
Cut down the Rebels in each Shire;  
To Assist him in the Western-War,  
Great Jove threw down his Thunder.   

In Hounsley-Heath, both Foot and Horse,  
With Conquering Eyes resembling Mars;  
With glittering Armour, Gold as Dross,  
Shone bright on every Soldier:  
All Amorous Ladies that were there,  
To the Commanders in despair;  
None bowed, without a wishful tear,  
In Love was all Behoulders.   

All night the Ladies vowed to Dream  
Of nothing but those Warlike-Men,  
Monmouth was but a fool to them,  
For all his soft Debauches.  
Each Soldier like Adonis' gains,  
Their trembling hearts, and smothered flames;  
Achilles conquered Countrey-dames,  
But these were all in Coaches.   

The Morning was closed up with Clouds,  
The Herds and She●p, for shelter crowds;  
When James appeared, these threatening Shrouds  
Dispersed, and Phoebus Shined,  
And darts his Beams upon the Plain,  
Then Flourished all the dazzling Train;  
Both Holland, Flanders, France and Spain,  
To James the Laurel Signed.   

To Accomplish these our glorious Days,  
The Christian Arms beyond the Seas;  
Victorious Harmony to please  
Our King, with Conquest sounding.  
With Horse and Foot, the Gun nnd Drum,  
And Christian Shouts they Run they Run,  
Like our west-Country Turks at home,  
In Huugary they're Confounded.   

Lorraine with Forty Thousand men,  
Newhasel took, relieved Gran,  
I'th' Face of Sixty Thousand Men,  
Cut these down at his leisure.  
In two days time he did Controal,  
With Conduct bright, and Warlike Soul,  
Without the help of French or Pole,  
He Conquers at his pleasure.   

This Year hath crushed the Serpent's head,  
The Turks cut off, the Whigs are dead;  
Some Jayled, some hanged, the rest run mad;  
Because the Turks are routed.  
While Christian Soldiers, daring Boys,  
Drinks the King's Health, themselves enjoys,  
All dangerous Consequence destroys,  
No Kingdom? Safe without it.    

LONDON, Printed for James Dean, Bookseller, between the Royal Grove, and the Helmet in Drury-Lane. 1685.