Protestant Unity, The best Policy to defeat Popery, all its Bloody Practices. OR, England's Happiness under such a Blessing. A Pleasant New SONG.  
Would England ever blest and happy be,  
It must be done by perfect Unity,  
Let Protestants in all things then agree.  
Then Rome shall fail like Lightning from the Sky,  
And all her plots shall soon Expire and Dye,  
Whilst we do prosper, and her Rage de●e.  
To the Tune of, Now new the Fight's done, etc.  
 

NOw Plots upon Plots makes the jesuits smile  
Who do think our Nation at last to beguile;  
Whilst Divisions grow rise, and Crowding come in  
Whilst Schismatics Clamour and rail at the sin  
Which themselves have contrived, for here it is plain  
They were wheeling the Kingdoms to Forty again.   

Whilst thus we're divided, the Pope has his will,  
And thinks that at last he his Goffers shall fill;  
With Protestant Plunder to make him amends,  
For the infinite store that he yearly expends  
To raise War and Bloodshed, and to carry on  
His private designs, to the Devil best known.   

For he's his Grand Counsellor, who so oft tried  
The way for to Conquer, is first to divide;  
For England United, not Rome, no nor Hell,  
Have the power for to shake, nor once for to quell  
Ourselves are the causers still of all our woe,  
Whilst Protestants Protestant's, seek to o'er throw.   

Read but the Scriptures, and there you will find,  
A Kingdom divided could never yet stand;  
Then see all those whose Brains they did s●me,  
With the hearts of Sedition, or have hared to presume  
To think ill of their King, let them do so no more,  
But a pardon of mercy, and goodness implore.   

Which will grieve to the heart our Blood seeking for,  
Who for this hundred years has sought our Woe  
By Plots and devices, then let us agree,  
Let Presbyter yield unto just Monarchy;  
Beneath whose Protection they happy may Live,  
And stiffnecked Baptists their Errors retrieve.   

When a King that's so gracious does over us reign,  
What good man has reason or cause to complain?  
No there's none, for all such may happily live,  
And enjoy peace and plenty which Heaven does give:  
By Union our Church so firm founded will stand,  
That in vain all her foes then against her may band.   

Let Religious Cavels that late have been bred,  
All cease that the feet they may join with the head;  
And cordially let each his Loyalty prove,  
By striving to conquer each other in Love:  
And let kind Union Alleigeance create,  
That the King and his Kingdoms may ever be great.   

Then shall proud France no more 〈◊〉 to frown,  
Lest our bold Armies should take her pride down;  
We conquering Ensigns to Rome might extend,  
If each man was faithful and true to his friend;  
There ●ounhive the old Pope and his Crew,  
And lead them in Triumph New London to view.   

The object of Envy at which they still aim,  
And wish that once more they could see it in Flame;  
But in vain they might wish it once we agree,  
To support the great Throne of true Majesty:  
To Maugre all Christendom, as we have done,  
When by strict Union the Nation was one.   

Then let each Se● their pretenees lay down,  
And to him submit that does wear England's Crown;  
And let us like Brethren in strict Amity,  
To root out the Pope and his Agents agree:  
That the Nations may happy remain and be blest  
Whilst we are of plenty and pleasure possess.   

Then that proud Monarch past doubt we might awe,  
Who undertakes to give Christendom Law;  
And live in safety in spite of the Power  
Or that Starlet Whore who does seek to devour  
Our Lives and our Fortunes, to which we make way,  
When our King and his Laws we dare disobey.   

On such weak pretences as are not worth name  
Then who but yourselves have you reason to blame?  
If Popery thrives and the upperhand get,  
Whilst murmuring against a good King you do sit;  
Under whose Reign you so happy might be,  
Then cease such Division, and let us agree.    

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clarke W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger.