D r. Robert VVild's LAST LEGACIE, OR A POEM SENT With a Guinney to Mr. B. D. for a New-years-Gift. December 30. 1678.
SIr, since the
Proclamation from the King,
For apprehending any Man, or Thing
Of whom we may be jealous▪ I have got
One able to Discover all the Plot▪
By the
Great Cross he weareth, you will see
Ground to suspect, he
Catholick may be.
Long
hidden in a Corner he had been,
And loth I found him to be known or seen:
His
Words but few, and those in Latine too;
What you can make of him, I pray you do:
For though he sets a
Good Face on the Thing,
And pleads that he hath
Count'nance from the King,
(As too too many Counterfeits, you know
Delude and cheat the World by pleading so)
He is
no Native; but from foreign Parts
Came over to bewitch our English hearts.
Seiz'd on as soon as landed, and convey'd
Into the
Tower, and there a
Priz'ner made;
There he was
Tri'd, &
Cast: Thence made
Escape,
And now goes
Currant under
Royal Shape:
Yet you'l suspect him by his
Blushing so,
For that's an Argument of
Guilt, you know.
He
goes by
Name of Guinney; new-coin'd names,
And new-nam'd Coins are Jesuitish Games;
Give me
old Gold, with
English names; like these
Crowns, Nobles, Angels, and
Jacobusses.
I must not be misconstru'd, let him wear
The
Image of the
Lawrel he doth bear,
And never
given to change; may no Disaster
Ever prevail to make him
change his Master▪
For I prefer, and so all Subjects True,
An
Old Jacobus far before
A New:
It is the
Matter, not the
Form I charge;
And here in his
Impeachment might be large,
As far as from one
Indie to the other,
Against both Gold and Silver his pale Brother.
We find St.
Peter in the daies of Old
(That was the
Golden-Age that hated
Gold;)
Had neither Gold nor Silver, but when they
Usurp'd the Chair, they banish'd Faith away:
And when these once forsake the
Tripple Crown,
Both
Pope and
Popery must tumble down.
'Tis these set men together by the Ears,
Put Difference 'twixt the
Commons and the
Peers:
These have the great Command at
Sea & Land,
They
Raise the Army, they can it
Disband:
They
Hatch'd and
Brooded the late curst Intent,
To
Kill the King, and
Change the Government.
For them — vote, by
them they Rise,
'Tis Love to
them, upholds
Pluralities.
For them the
Lawyers brawl;
They fool the
Wise:
They cast
a Mist before the
Judge's Fyes:
They pay the
Pensioner, the
Pimp, the
Miss:
They brought the
Treasurer to
what he is.
If they don't fetch him off, off flies his
Head.
And who can help't, They
cannot raise the Dead.
Their Charge is infinite, I must give over,
Let
Praunce the
Silver-smith the rest Discover.
Mean time, do you Sir under Lock and Key
Keep Guinney
safe, for fear he steal away,
For if but once he can get out of Door,
Twenty to one,
you never see him more.
London, Printed for A. B.