THE whigs LAMENTATION For the Death of their Dear Brother College, The Protestant JOINER.  
To the Tune of, Now, Now, the Fights Done, and the Great God of War, etc. 
 4. Nou. 1681.  

(I.)  
BRave College is Hanged, the Chief of our hopes,  
For pulling down Bishops, and making New Popes;  
Our dear Brother Property crawls on the Ground,  
In Poland, King-Anthony ne'er will be Crowned:  
For now their resolved, that Hearts shall be Trump,  
And the Prentices Swear, they will Burn the Old Rump.   

(II.)  
Brave College, both Champion and Carver of Laws,  
Who died undaunte, and stuck to the Cause;  
What mischief might thou, to the Godly have done  
Had thy daring Soul, dreaded the World to come?  
And all thy dear Party to danger exposed,  
If thou to the World, had thy secrets disclosed.   

(III.)  
But now thou art Hanged, and that fear is past,  
Were all thats in question as safe in the Nest;  
Then we some new means, might consult or contrive,  
To drive on our purpose, to prosper or thrive:  
But the Popish PLOT, has now quite lost its Name,  
And none thy bright Blunderbush dare to maintain.   

(IV.)  
What K— but Great College, could ere make a Pope  
Tho' he was o'er ruled by the end of the Rope?  
Great College, was certainly Jure Divino,  
When the Triple Crown, on the Pope's Head did Shino,  
He burned him to Ashes, for pastime like Nero  
Then straight made a new one, such Power had our Hero.   

(V.)  
Great College, must certainly die a good Martyr,  
Being Knight of the Halter, and above the Garter;  
Our dear Brother Statesman, tho' bred in a Saw-pit,  
Had Internal Genius, enough to or'ethrow Wit:  
He framed a new Moddel, to limit the King,  
In hopes Crown and Sceptre, might truckle to him.   

(VI)  
Great Britain, ne'er bred such a Brother as College,  
He made Seven Popes, in his Time on our knowledge;  
Our Signals of Crimes, he put in the Pope's Arms,  
Which prudent Contrivance, our Function Alarms.  
With threats in Petition, King's Power to restrain,  
Yet Towser, and Broomstaff, rides Admiral again.   

(VII.)  
Great Hanibals Conquest, nor oliver's Nose,  
Could with such small Slaughter, subdue such great Foes,  
As he in this three years, with help of our Party,  
Hath checked our three Kingdoms and Magne Carta.  
The Head of our Church, and the Head of our Cause,  
He would have maintained them by Perjury and Blows.   

(VIII.)  
He now may be called, a third Saviour o'th' Nation,  
To save his dear Church, he Renounced Salvation;  
Like Famous Cargile, he died for King Jesus,  
Defying Church Idols, enough to amaze us:  
He tied up together, both his and our Crimes,  
And died like a Devil, to damp our Designs.   

(IX.)  
Our Case tothth' Carrector-men, we must refer  
To Shadvell, and Settle, to Curtis, and Carr.  
To know who Succeeds, our Late Captain the Joiner,  
He must be an Artist, some Carver, or coiner,  
To make our Solemn'ty, and some New Popes,  
On which our dependency, hangs and our hopes.   

(X.)  
But when the time comes, that the Pope must be burned  
I fear we shall find that the Tide is much turned?  
For the Tory Party, hath got so much ground,  
To Head a Rebellion there's none will be found;  
For now they're Resolved that Hearts shall be Trump;  
And the Prentices Swear, they'll burn the Old Rump.   

(XI.)  
Such a confused Monster, they swear they'll Compose  
Of all the Dissenters, that are the King's Foes;  
The Baptist, and Biter, the Pendant, and Quaker,  
From which they will draw such a prodigious Creature:  
More Diabolical Invective Far,  
Then all Popes Solemnity's at Temple-Barr.   

(XII.)  
Our Common-Councel le's Summon together,  
To Panel packed Jury's, Let's make't our endeavour,  
For an Habeus Corpus, insist on our Power;  
To fetch our Great Patriots out of the Tower;  
And then we'll Dispute the Case, for Reformation,  
And make the Proud Torys Resign us the Nation    

LONDON, Printed for William Ring, in the year. 1681.