A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT FOR THE WHIGS: Or, A True Relation of Threescore Presbyters (Foot and Horse) that surprised Two of the Kin●● Guards in their beds, at an Inn seven Miles from Edinburgh, Cutting all the Flesh off their bon●● till they were Dead, and carried the pieces to their Respective Friends, and there burned them 〈◊〉 Contempt of God and their King.  
Tune of, Then then to the Duke let's fill up the Glass.  
 
 

GReat Souls that are free from Faction, rejoice,  
and stand on y'r guard for y'r Country & King  
Observe the success of Papillion, Duboice,  
of Bethel and Cornish, and Tony's black Sting:  
Walcot and College, and Young Horned Dotage,  
see how some are hanged, and the rest run away;  
Let this be a warning, to Whigs rigid scorning,  
who choose to be Damned rather than to Obey.   

II.  
Yet still with the Scotch they dare to Conspire,  
the Dutch are not idle the French to send o'er;  
The Scum of the Country from France do retire,  
to support the Old- Cause, come to breed on our Shore;  
To join with the Dutch or the whigs of our Nation,  
must be the Design of those Presbyter Saints;  
To th' ruin of our trade they have made an invasion  
pretence of Religion protects their false Cants.   

III.  
Whigs constant to nothing, but treason and change,  
o're-charging their Noddles with notions of State;  
With Trimming reflections on loyal L' Estrange,  
more profligate Villains ne'er peeped thru' a Grate;  
Let Oats be remembered, ten thousand times perjured,  
and keep the Beast chained, until the next Term;  
And then through a Casement, tothth' whigs great amazement,  
and next Sessions after he'll Tyburn adorn.   

IV.  
The Scotch-Covenanters to rouse up our Knaves,  
hath given us a Signet, as they did before;  
When the Bishop's brains against the Coach-Nav●●  
they dashed out, to show what a God they ador●  
By th' light of the Spirit, some sixty in number,  
surprised in their beds two of the King's Guards  
Alive leg and limb they cut 'em asunder,  
by Yea and Nay, Brother, they merit reward:   

V.  
with the flesh on the points of their swords they reti●●  
in Triumph, cried, This is the work of the Lea●●●  
For this holy murder by th' Saints we were Hired,  
Gend faith the next time let 'em stand on their gua●●  
Had they been the King & the Duke, we had glory's  
and a Thanksgiving-day had been humed in our Kin●●  
For their blood we do thirst, but their name we abhors  
for we worship no King, but the De'el and the Tur●●   

VI.  
And thus they dispersed with the blood of their pre●  
in hopes of a better next time they do meet;  
This is the Religion our Saints hopes to sway,  
in murder and plunder thinks nothing more sweet.  
But God bless the King, the Duke and the Duchess  
for the Royal line let's Fight to maintain  
'Gainst all that upon the Prerogative touches,  
conclude with this Health, let Charles ever Reign▪   
FINIS.   

Printed for J. Deane Bookseller, in Cranborn-street, near Newport-house, in Leicester-fields.