THE NEW litany.  

FRom a senseless Mayor not fit to rule hogs,  
From such as obey him like Spaniel dogs,  
From summer's heat, and winter's fogs,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From a City that lies on his back to be gelt,  
From such as won't stir till famine be felt,  
From the gun, the pike, the sword, and the belt,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From the Anabaptiss, and shivering Quakers,  
From such as Rule us like bow-legged Bakers,  
From those that undo us, yet are good lawmakers,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From being taken in a disguise,  
From Sir George Booth, and his Cheshire lies,  
From such as brought hither that devil, Excize,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From dissembling Presbyters, and their plots,  
From English forty times worser than Scots,  
From those that for our Estates cast lots,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From such as learnedly tell us of fights,  
And eke of their Valour like Errant Knights,  
But from a battle will run like sprites,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From such as in Drink rout Men and Horse too,  
From those that can prate, yet nothing dare do,  
From a ranting, swearing, drunken crew,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From the City Militia that stares like Hector's,  
From such as are the State Projectors,  
From Taxes, Red-coats, and Collectors,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From such as wound us with their Tongues,  
From the Anabaptists poisonous Lungs,  
Those Beasts that would cast our Bells into Guns,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From Goldsmiths-hall Chairman and Committee,  
From the lukewarmness of a perjured City,  
From Sequestrators that ne'er knew pity,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From such as value their Trades, not Religion,  
From those that believe every ignorant Widgion,  
Hate Kings, yet love the Mahometan pigeon,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From steelen Heroes that rule us with rods,  
From such as value not man's Law, or Gods,  
From those that have no more life than logs,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From empty Purses, and clothes that are rent,  
From the public Faith whose Credit is shent,  
From Oliver's fiery Tenement,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From a Country Justice that looks very big,  
From a Chancery-suit, and a Common-law jig,  
From the Earl of Essex's Italian fig,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From dissembling Sects and their gogle-Eyes,  
From believing of the Printed lies,  
From Rogues and from republic spies,  
Libera nos Domine.   

From sucu as can run, yet are counterfeit cripples,  
From those that threaten to pull down Steeples,  
From such as stand by as dull as Beetles,  
Libera nos Domine.