Chips of the Old Block; OR, HERCULES CLEANSING THE AUGAEAN STABLE.  
To the Tune of, The Sword.  

I.  
NOw you by your good leave Sirs,  
Shall see the Rump can cleave Sirs,  
And what Chips from this Treacherous Block will come you may conceive Sirs.   

II.  
Lenthalls the first o' the Lump sure,  
A Fart, and he may jump sure,  
For both do stink, and both we know are Speakers of the Rump sure.   

III.  
That Mine of Fraud Sir Artur,  
His Soul for Lands will Barter,  
And if you'd ride to Hell in a wain, He's fit to make your Carter.   

iv.  
Sir Harry Vane, God bless us,  
To Popery he would press us,  
And for the devil's dinner he, the Roman way would dress us.   

V.  
Harry Martin never mista,  
To Love the wanton Twist-a,  
And lustful Aretine's bawdy Leaves are his Evangelist-a.   

VI  
Harry Nevill's no widgeon,  
His practice truly stygian,  
Makes it a masterpiece of wit to be of no Religion.   

VII  
But my good Lord Glyn Man,  
Pride is a deadly sin Man,  
Cots pluttera nails few Traitors be like you of all your kin Man.   

VIII.  
If Saint-John be a Saint Sir,  
He hath a Devilish taint Sir,  
While Straffords blood in Heavens High Court of Justice makes complaint Sir.   

Ix..  
Doctor Palmer's all day sleeping,  
And into his Heart ne'er peeping,  
'tis ill he that neglects his own, should have All-souls in keeping.   

X.  
Will. Bruertous a sinner,  
And, Croyden knows, a Winner,  
But O take heed lest he do eat the Rump all at one Dinner.   

XI.  
Robin Andrews is a Miser,  
Of cobblers no despiser,  
And could they vamp him a new head, perhaps he would be Wiser.   

XII.  
* But Baron Wild come out here,  
Show your Ferret face and Snout here,  
For you being both a Fool and Knave are a Monster in the Rout here.   

XIII.  
Nick. Lechmere Loyalty needs still,  
And on weathercocks he feeds still,  
If Heathen, Turk or Jew should come, so he would change his Creed still.   

XIIII.  
There's half-witted Will. Say too,  
A right fool in the Play too,  
That would make a perfect ass, if he could learn to Bray too,   

XV.  
Cornelius thou wert a linkboy,  
And born 'tis like, in a Sink boy,  
I'd tell thy Knavery to the World, but thy Pitch sticks in my ink Boy.   

XVI.  
Baron Hill was but a Valley,  
And born scarce to an Alley,  
But now is Lord of Taunton-dean and thousands he can Ralley.   

XVII.  
Lord Fines he will not maul men,  
For he likes not Death of all men,  
And his Heart doth go to Pit to Pat, when to Battle he should call men.   

XVIII.  
Perfidious Whitklock Ever,  
Hath mischief under's Beaver,  
And for his ends will put the World into a barning fever.   

XIX.  
Ashley Cowper knew a Reason,  
That Treachery was in Season,  
When at the first he turned his coat from Loyalty to Treason.   

XX.  
And gouty Master Wallop,  
Now thinks he hath the Ballop,  
But though he trotted to the Rump, he'll run away a Gallop.   

XXI.  
There's Carew Raleigh by him,  
All good Men do defy him,  
And they that think him not a Knave, I wish they would but try him.   

XXII.  
Luke Robinson that Clownado,  
Though his heart be a Granado,  
Yet a high-shoe with his hands in's Poke, is his most pe●fect shadow.   

XXIII.  
Soloway with Tobacco,  
Inspired, turned State Quacko;  
And got more by his feigned zeal, then by his What de'c Lack ho.   

XXIIII.  
But Widdrington how came you there?  
A wise man and a true there!  
You are an Athanasius among a Knavish Crew there.   

XXV.  
But Lisle is half forgotten,  
Who oft is over shotten,  
For just like Harp and Gridiron his Brains with Law do Cotten.   

XXVI.  
What Knaves are more to be vexed Sirs.  
You'll hear when I sing next sirs.  
For now my Muse is tired with this abominable Text Sirs,   
Ridentem dicere verum, Quid vetat?   

Printed at the HAGUE, for S. Browne, 1659.