TWO ROYAL ACHROSTICHES ON The Dutch in the Ditch.  

DIEV ET MON DROIT.  
DRive, Devil drive, the Drunken Dutch are thine,  
For thou hast leave to enter into Swine.  
Into the Main amain, the leading Boor  
Did headlong run, the rest been all verloor;  
Even the very Pigs are grown Sea-sick,  
Ask them how long, they cry a Week, a Week,  
FIVE antrump did cast their Waters, and did say,  
They could not live, except they ran away.  
E vertse put from Sea, as loathe to lag,  
Seeing the High and Mighty Topsails Flag.  
T riumph, Revenge did follow them so close,  
Their Purge was strong, worked with so small a Dose  
M iin Here o cried the Vulgar, Charity,  
Or else miin Vrouw I never more shall see.  
Oh Royal Charles and Katherine, Royal Oak,  
If james command their Norway Masts are broke  
No Christian sure will ever aid the Turk,  
Or help such jews to set the Devil a work.  
D runken the Swine were drowned in English lost  
The Gaderens persuade to leave the Coast.  
Ride Admiral Brave James, let them not peep,  
Or have a Ship to sail 'twixt Deel or Deep;  
Or if they have, never let them want for Rope,  
For they have need since their main stays are broke  
Indeed their hearts, & since they dealt with French,  
They got a Clap, but 'twas not by a Wench;  
'Twas by a Prince like Jove, whose thunder's such  
Frighted the Frogs from Bank to the low Dutch,  
Yet If they'll venture out into the Main,  
Our English Neptune there still holds the Rein.  
Though Falmouth, Portland noble blood did spill,  
They have their Honour, we our Sandwich still.  
God and my Right is what belongs to Kings,  
God will assert his Right, (when such poor things  
As cast of Sovereign Power, and ungrate,  
Think God is pleased to be served in State,  
Shall fly before the Sound of Charles and James,  
And in their Flight shall keep to make Vpdams  
And when they know their Damages and loss,  
Let them put something down for Ben's Madross,   

HONI SOIT QVI MAL Y PENSE.  
HOist up your high & mighty Topsails Hogen's  
Your one and twenty Flag-ships, mighty Mogens.  
OH pdam's Gout's cured, Trumpets backward, yet can't found  
No ready cure, although he courts the wind:  
Not ease he finds, his pain is grown so much,  
Their Doctors swear wind Colic killed the Dutch  
Yet it is strange they had so little Wind,  
That you could hardly hear them Trump behind  
S even Provinces at once set on the stocks,  
Sure they were drunk, else they had felt their knocks.  
Oh 'las! a drunken body feels no harm,  
Much lesle a State their Brandy kept them warm  
Indeed 'twas pity that with t'other seven  
The Provinces wa'nt there to make them even.  
Those and seven more would drink the Ocean dry,  
Since 1 Fire-ship did make the Herring fry.  
Quench well your thirst with Brandy once again  
'Twill make you broil like fish, yet feel no pain;  
Unless you can repent, and then God may  
Receive your souls, although you lose the day.  
Into the Texel, out again, fie, fie,  
Doth it not shame your Admirals to fly,  
Most High and Mighty Courtenair and Scramp  
Trying to swim, were taken by a Cramp.  
Ah there to swim is dangerous, learn De Wit,  
Hold up your head, and trust not more your feet.  
Lost your Orania, loose not Orange too,  
You know not what a Gracious Prince can do;  
Your sunk already, but if like Boys you rise,  
'Twill be to show but where your Anchor lies.  
Pay Caesar's due, and God will make you bolder,  
The States must bow unto the States State-holder.  
E vil is still to them that evil think,  
Pray when you fight again don't fight in drink.  
Ne'er think you can prevail upon those Waters,  
That is so easily ruled by England's Garters.  
S overeigns at Sea ride Admirals, States  
With our Rump have quite worn out their dates  
E ngland's Neptune in her Narrow Seas,  
Can reach your Indies where & when he please  
Come help to save your stingy lost De Ruyter,  
Or you must bow that stoop to kiss the Crupper.