Prattle your pleasure, (under the ROSE.)  

THere is an old Proverb, which all the world knows,  
Any thing may be spoke, so't be under the Rose,  
Then now let us speak; whilst we are in the hint,  
Of the State of the Land, and th'enormities in't.   

Under the rose be it spoke, there's a number of knaves,  
More than ever were known in a stock before;  
But I hope that their mischiefs have digged their own graves,  
And we'll never trust Knaves for their sakes any more.   

Under the Rose, &c. the city's an ass,  
So long to the public to let their Gold run,  
To keep the King out, but 'tis now come to pass,  
I am sure they will lose, whosoever has won.   

Under the Rose, &c. there's a company of men,  
Train Bands they are called, a pox confound'm.  
And when they are waiting at Westminster Hall,  
May their Wives be made whores, and begot with child all.   

Under, &c. there's a damned Committee,  
Sits in Hell (Goldsmith's Hall) in the midst of the City,  
Only to sequester the poor Cavaliers,  
The devil take their souls, and the hangman their ears.   

Under the Rose be it spoke, if you do not repent  
Of that horrible sin, your pure Parliament,  
Pray stay till Sir Thomas doth bring in the King,  
Then Derrick may chance have them all in a string.   

Under the Rose be't spoke, let the Synod now leave  
To wrest the whole Scripture poor souls to deceive,  
For all they have spoke, or taught, will never save 'em,  
Unless they will leave that fault, Hell's sure to have' m.   
Mr. Finis Mr▪ An. Dom. 1647.