The ROYAL GENERAL Or the Camp at PUTNEY HEATH
To the
Tune of
State and Ambition &c.
NOw the great
Monarch of
England's bright Splendor,
doth shine over
Europe like
Jove in his
Throne
Makes
France to the
Empire, &
Spanierd surrender,
The peace and the plenty of what is their own;
The
Turk and the
Teiklites thereby are o're powerd
And crusht
by the conduct of Christians strong Arms,
Such successful blessing the heavens have showred,
The
Turks and the
Tartars are lost in the
Storms.
II.
Great
Charles and his
Highness they bravly have Conquer'd
Our pretended
Protestant Turks of the Race,
Of
Haslrig, Bradshaw and
Tapskie who Scamper'd,
And left his desciples to hang in disgrace:
With pollitick prudence and mercy they've turned
The Sceam of the Kingdom as it was before,
The saucy proud
Presbyter formerly scorned,
Are fore't to their Sovereign to whine and adore.
III.
Come brave daring
Tories that's warlike affected,
O'th offspring of
Mars and delights in a Drum;
At which the
Phanaticks are vex't and affrighted;
Where none but Heroick brave souls are to come:
At
Putney you'l see his brave
Highness restored
Chief General by
Land as well as by
Sea,
His Merits deserving the god's have implored,
That none but the right in succession shou'd sway.
IV.
Great
Chalres more than
Cesar an Army hath raised
To protect his Friends, and keep Rebells in awe,
Not to be disbantled at
Parliament pleasure;
Wee'l make those damd'd hot-spurs Alegeance to
know;
The
Hoboys and
trumpets sounds tan, ta, ra, ra, ra
The Colours do florish Drums beat dub, a dub
Each loyal Commander his Souldiers doth cherist
They'le make
Jack Presbyter fly from his tub.
V.
No
Theatre, Opera nor garden of pleasure,
Can equal the harmony of
English Camp;
Three Kingdom's
Protection and
Monarchs chief Treasure,
A terror to our English Turks o'th' same
stamp
Our
New-Castl
[...] Rebells and Scotch apprehended,
Must lay by their hopes of rasing the Croude;
Rumbold now taken shall be recommended,
With
Argile on Gibbet as high as a Cloud.
VI.
The Guards and Malitia in real Emulation,
Each Souldier deserving Commissioners place;
Their souls are aspir'd above Elevation,
And e'ry Commander
Achilles's grace:
The King & the Duke & Prince are Triumphant,
With loud Acclamations, and Trophies of joys,
To see
proud opposers subdu'd that were
Rampant.
With huzza's let's drink their health
Tory-Boys.
VII.
All that in war-like Disciplin delighteth,
Pray for the success of the Christians Arms,
And for all that contribut's to pay
those that fighteth
In the Holy Wars & their Duty performs;
And those that discover'd the last
Plot in
Scotlland,
Wherein
Sterling-Castle was to be surpris'd;
And for the perservation of peace in old
England;
And let those be hang'd that trims in disguise.
FINIS.
London Printed for J. Dean, Bookseller in Cranborn-Street near Newport-House in Leicesterfields, 1684.