THE Dissatisfied SUBJECT. OR, Covetousness, the Destruction of Religion, and Loyalty.  
To the Tune of, Let Mary live long.  
Licence daccording to Order.  

I.  
BEhold in this Age  
the loose and perfidious  
are seeming Religious:  
They swear to engage  
The Truth to defend:  
while they thrive and groich,  
they will go thoroughstitch,  
Like right honest Men:  
yet touch but their Mammon,  
yet touch but their Mammon,  
And where are they then?   

II.  
If the Army this day,  
the noble Commanders,  
and Hero's of Flanders,  
Would fight without Pay,  
And venture their Lives:  
if the King could do all  
without Taxes at all,  
'Tis like they would own,  
he was the best Monarch,  
he was the best Monarch,  
As ever was known.   

III.  
The King they love well,  
and likewise the Nation,  
without disputation,  
Our Foes they'd expel  
At home and abroad;  
nay the Troops they'd enlarge,  
could it be without Charge,  
For a Cause so divine:  
but tell them of Taxes,  
but tell them, etc.  
And then they repine.   

IV.  
Nay Presbyter Jack,  
that zealous Professor,  
and loyal Addressor,  
He'll stand to his Tack,  
As tight as a Drum:  
but at length he grows cold,  
when he parts with his Gold,  
From him and his Heirs,  
the which he admires  
the which he admires  
Much more than his Prayers.   

V.  
Religion's the Cry,  
yet there are not many  
that ever had any  
I tell you; for why  
There's little they mind,  
but to rant, roar and sing,  
and cry, God save the King.  
Then off with their Drink,  
is this true Religion?  
is this true Religion?  
Sirs, What do you think?   

VI  
One swears by his Soul,  
that he's no Philistine,  
but 'Zounds a good Christian;  
Then takes off his Bowl,  
And swears like a Lord,  
that he loves the old way,  
for to read as they pray:  
'Tis ease for the Brain,  
and when it is ended,  
and when, etc.  
To drinking again.   

VII.  
Now therefore between  
the huffing young Hector,  
and Jack the Projector,  
In this present Scene,  
Religion is tossed  
like a Football about,  
there's not many devout,  
We find to our Cost;  
which makes us imagine,  
which makes, etc.  
That Honesty's lost.   

VIII.  
Le's pray for the King,  
let Blessings attend him,  
and Heaven defend him,  
That under his Wing  
We see happy days;  
when the Storm is blown over,  
we shall flourish once more,  
In spite of our Foes,  
let Angels still guard him,  
let Angels still guard him,  
wherever he goes.    

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Back.