A satire.  

HIS Holiness has Three Grand Friends  
On Great Britain shore,  
That prosecute his (and their own) ends,  
A D. a Judge, and a Whore.   

The D. is as true as Steel  
To the Pope, that Infallible Elf;  
Therefore no Friend to the Common Weal,  
Nor no Friend unto himself.   

The Judge is a Butcher's Son,  
Yet hates to shed innocent Blood,  
But for Ten thousand pound has done  
The Pope a great deal of good.   

He that Villain Wakeman cleared,  
Who was to have Poisoned the King,  
As it most plainly appeared;  
For which he deserves to swing.   

Portsmouth, that Pocky-Bitch,  
A Damned Papistical-Drab,  
An ugly deformed Witch,  
Eaten up with the Mange and Scab.   

This French Hag's Pocky Bum  
So powerful is of late;  
Although it's both Blind and Dumb,  
It Rules both Church and State.