WHIG upon WHIG: OR, A Pleasant Dismal BALLAD On the Old Plotters newly found out.  
To the Tune of, O Hone, O Hone.  

[1]  
BEloved harken all,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
●o my sad Rhimes, that shall,  
O Hone, Hone,  
Be found in Ditty sad,  
Which makes Me almost mad,  
But Tories Hearts full glad,  
O Hone, O Hone.   

[2]  
Essex has cut his Throat,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
Russel is Guilty found,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
Walcot being of the Crew,  
And Hone the Joiner too,  
Must give the devil his due,  
O Hone, O Hone.   

[3]  
Rumsey swears heartily,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
West swears He does not lie,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
L. H— d vows by's Troth,  
That they are good Men both,  
And take the self same Oath,  
O Hone, O Hone.   

[4]  
I heard some People say,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
M—h is fled away,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
And some do not stick to say,  
If he falls in their way,  
He will have damned fair Play,  
O Hone, O Hone.   

[5]  
Armstrong and Grace Got wot,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
And Ferguson the Scot,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
Are all run God knows where,  
'Cause stay they dare not here,  
To fix our Grand Affair,  
O Hone, O Hone.   

[6]  
Juries (alas) are thus,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
There's no Ignoramus,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
But you'll have Justice done,  
To every Mother's Son,  
And be Hanged One by One.  
O Hone, O Hone.   

[7]  
Now how like Fools we look,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
Had we not better took  
O Hone, O Hone,  
Unto our Trades and Wives,  
And have kept in our Hives,  
Which might have saved our Lives,  
O Hone, O Hone.   

[8]  
The King he says, that all  
O Hone, O Hone,  
That are found Guilty, shall  
O Hone, O Hone,  
Die by the Axe or Rope,  
As they died for the POPE;  
Brethren there is no Hope.  
O Hone, O Hone.   

[9]  
The Sisters left behind,  
O Hone, O Hone,  
Must with Vile Tories Grind,  
O hone, O hone,  
And still be at their Call,  
To play at Up-tails-all;  
Nay, to be Poxed and all.  
O hone, O hone.   

[10]  
The Tories now will Drink,  
O hone, O hone,  
The King's Health with our Chink,  
O hone, O hone,  
Queen, Duke and Duchess too,  
And all the Loyal Crew.  
Jerney Morblew, Morblew,  
O hone, O hone.    

Printed by N. T. at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden. 1683.   

The WHIGS laid open, OR, An Honest Ballad of these sad Times.  
To a Merry Tune, called Old Simon the King.  

I.  
NOw the Plotters & Plots are confounded,  
And all their Designs are made known  
Which smellt so strong of the Round-head,  
And Treason of Forty One.  
And all the Pious Intentions  
For Property, Liberty, Laws,  
Are found to be only Inventions,  
To bring in their Good Old Cause.  
And all the Pious, etc.   

II.  
By their delicate Bill of Exclusion,  
So hotly pursued by the Rabble;  
T●●y hoped to have made such Confusion,  
〈◊〉 never was seen at Old Babel.  
Th●● Shaftsbury's brave City Boys,  
And M—ths Country Relations,  
Were ready to second the Noise,  
●●d send it throughout the 3 Nations.  
Then Shaftsbury' s, etc.   

III.  
No more of the 5th▪ of November,  
T●at Dangerous Desperate Plot;  
But ever with horruor remember  
Old Tony, Armstrong, and Scot  
For Tony should ne'er be forgotten,  
Nor Ferguson's Popular Rules;  
Nor M—th, or G G —y, when they're rotten,  
For Popular, Politic Fools.  
For Tony should, etc.   

IV.  
The Murder of Father and King,  
And Extinguishing all the right Line,  
Was a Good and a Godly thing;  
And worthy the Whigs Design:  
The Hanging of Prelate, and Peer,  
And putting the Guards to the Sword,  
And Flaying, and Slashing Lord Mayors,  
Was to do the Work o'the Lord.  
The Hanging of, etc.   

V.  
But I hope they will have their Desert,  
And the Gallows will have its due,  
And Jack Catch will be more Expert,  
And in time be as Rich as a Jew,  
Whilst now in the Tavern we Sing,  
All Joy to great York and his Right,  
A Glorious long Reign to our King;  
But when They'v'e occasion we'll Fight.  
Whilst now in the Tavern, etc.   

VI  
The name of a Whig and a Tory,  
No more shall Disquiet the Nation;  
We'll Fight for the Church and her Glory,  
And Pray for this Reformation▪  
That every Factious Professor,  
And every Zealous Pretender  
May humble 'em, to the Successor  
Of Charles, our Nation's Defender.  
That every Factious etc.    

Printed by N. T. at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden, 1683▪