A NEW SONG, BEING THE TORIES TRIUMPH, OR, THE Point well Weathered:  
To a New Theatre Tune.  

I.  
SOme say, the Papists had a Plot,  
Against the Church and Crown;  
But be it so, or be it not,  
The King must please the Town.  
The Papists take Tyburn by turns,  
To please the City Gulls;  
It's strange, that they, who all wear Horns,  
Should fear the Popish Bull's.   

II.  
The House of Commons blow the Coals,  
The Nation to dissettle;  
And, like true Tinkers, make two Holes,  
To mend one in a Kettle:  
Or else, What needs that precious Vote,  
That if the King should Fall  
By Pagan, or Fanatic Plot,  
The Pope must pay for all?   

III.  
Our Royal James of Princely Race,  
And High Illustrious Fame,  
Was not thought fit, by Commons base,  
To follow Charles' Wain:  
But let that House of Office know,  
When they have Sowed their Leaven,  
He shall Succeed, though they say no,  
By all the Laws of Heaven.   

IV.  
Old Cavaliers for Loyalty  
They straight Clapped up for Treason,  
In hopes to bring in Anarchy,  
'Gainst Justice, Sense, and Reason.  
Brave Hallifax and Feversham,  
Brave Worster, Just and Wise,  
They did Vote down, as dangerous Men,  
That they Themselves might Rise.   

V.  
But Oh! that Lord in Leistershire,  
Turned Catchpole, though too Late,  
'Tis better Priests in Prison were,  
Then Bums should lose their Trade:  
For Priest poor Waller never sought,  
But where was Golden Crosses;  
His Myrmidons went Snacks, 'tis Thought,  
In all the Owners Losses.   

VI  
The Doctor he has bid Farewell  
To Jesus, and the Court;  
And Tony's Tap runs flat and dull,  
Makes Catch in hopes of Sport.  
Bleu Protestant's can make no work,  
Unless like Hungary,  
They for Religion Join the Turk,  
For Christian Liberty.    

London, Printed for J. D. in the Year 1682.