A WORD of ADVICE TO THE Two New Sheriffs OF LONDON.  
NOw all the bussel's over 'bout the choice  
Of North and Rich, Papillion and Duboise,  
Some cried no North, and many had an itch  
To see some other chosen and not Rich,  
Many a Whig did gape with his loud voice,  
And gave his single Vote for their Duboise;  
And I believe there was near half a Million,  
Within the City voted for Papillion,  
And as to you ingenious Mr. North,  
My Lord Mayors drinking only brought you forth;  
Some talked as if you came in at th' Back door,  
But you were introduced by Sir john Moor;  
Come in what Way you will it must be born,  
For now we find your Worships both are sworn.  
And now with all my heart I wish you joy,  
Hoping the Whiggish Vices you'll destroy,  
Where virtue is, Oh Sirs! let that alone,  
Present it sacred to Great Britain's Throne,  
Let that be gently dealt with, do't no harm,  
With Pike, picked Juries, or with strength of Arm,  
Encourage virtue in the open Street,  
And let us see that you are glad to see't,  
Then we'll adore you like two petty Gods,  
And whigs and you will be no more at odds,  
we'll strive with all our might to tell your Glory,  
If you will stay the vice of Whigg and Tory:  
The number of their Sins (I fear) increase,  
And that's the chief disturbance of our Peace;  
We pray you therefore wheresoever you find them,  
Give them no quarter, but with Millstones grind them,  
Be as severe to Sin as you think fit,  
But as to virtue meddle not with it;  
If any should be without cause oppressed,  
Oh ease their griefs, and thus you may be blest,  
Encourage good men, and correct the bad,  
The City than will be no longer sad,  
Suppress the City's Sins, and you'll do well,  
Suppressing virtue brings men unto Hell;  
Meetings have been disturbed too oft by those  
That to a Bawdy-house were never Foes:  
Thus Preaching seems a Crime, and whoring none,  
Poor Mr. Hilton, Oh! let him alone,  
He's a pure harmless Youth and out of pity,  
Disturbs the Meeting-houses in the City,  
I think indeed I do not miss my mark,  
If I declare that he is in the dark,  
His time were better spent in Whetstones-Park.  
There let Informers work and spend their time,  
To break their Meetings up can be no Crime;  
But Whores may swear rather than Christians Pray,  
Informers will have large accounts to pay,  
But like the Welshman they put off that day:  
Let Hur alone till that day come cry they,  
That day will come, and woe woe be too those,  
That are the Strumpet's friends and Christians foes,  
Woe be to to those I say, the time draws near,  
In which they must expect to pay for't dear.  
But go Informing Villains from my Pen,  
As you Inform you are the worst of men,  
Inform where Papists are, there are great store,  
Inform the Justices of every Whore,  
Inform against your fellow Rogues that swear,  
And wallow, like to Swine, in Wine and Bear;  
Inform against the Vices of the Age,  
There we will give you leave to show your rage,  
Let them alone that Worship God with fear,  
Or let me tell you, you will pay for't dear;  
If in their Meetings they disturb the Peace,  
I would not have Informers then to cease,  
Then be severe, and Plague them as you please,  
Then give them neither countenance nor ease;  
But if they do no ill, why so severe?  
Surely thou tak'st the wrong Sow by the ear.  
Sweet Sir Informer if they preach but Treason,  
Then hang them up indeed, it is but reason,  
But it's to hard to suffer, or to swing,  
For meeting but to pray for our good King;  
They Preach down sin, and pray for Reformation,  
Would there were no worse Subjects in the Nation.  
Increase the number Lord of such good men,  
Now where there is but one, do thou raise ten:  
And we shall think it a most Blessed change,  
To give us these, and take away Le' Strange.   

LONDON, Printed for R. Robinson, MDCLXXXII.