THE BELGICK LYON DISCOVERD.
'TIs done! the
Belgick Lyon, whose loud roar
Fill'd all the Ocean from Shore to Shore
With Noise and Vapour; is uncas'd, and now
Discovers both his Ears, and Body too;
Those Swoln Romantique Papers which have flown
Abroad and fill'd each Part of Christendom
With Lying Rumors, which proclaim'd what you
Both had Design'd and were resolv'd to Do
That durst with base unhallow'd Ink defile
The Reputation of the Noblest Isle
Great
Neptune's Arms e're circled, nay blaspheme
That Sacred Head which wears a Diadem
Second to none in
Europe, now appear
Just Monuments both of your Shame and Fear
True Pourtraits of your Baseness, Wretched Slaves
Did you believe that your
Batavian Braves
Could fright the
Brittish Monarch?
Skellums, no!
The greatest of your Force is much below
His cheapest Thoughts; though all your
Heere's wore Crown
Rich as the Sun e're saw, though all your Towns
Were
Hogen-Mogen Empires, though your Souls
Were keener then your Cheese, and your fat Joules
Big as your
Brandy, yet he'le give you knocks
[...]uch as will break the strongest Butter-box;
Will melt you into your first Mass, and then
You'le be the
Poor distressed States agen;
But you were got on Tip-toe th' Air of
France
[...]d purg'd Phlegm, and taught you how to dance,
These new
Lavaltoes, dull-brain'd stupid Rogues.
Worst then the worst of men, then
Indian Jogues
Could you forget what great
ELIZA did
When
A
[...]as Duke,
Colossus like bestrid
Your Jadish Backs, when th' Inquisition tore
Your heart-strings out, and bath'd your sides in Core,
When Sea and Land were both shut up, and you
Neither knew where to stay, nor how to go,
The
English Valour then, (so much of late
Despis'd by you) buoy'd up your sinking State,
Rescu'd you from that Force, by which you were
Thrown down into the bottom of Despaire,
These then were favours, which to do you right
You ever since have labour'd to requite
Witness the Kindness, which by you was shewn
To us at
Banda, and at
Pulleroon
Amboina's Mercies too were great, and such
As did to all men speak you truly
DƲTCH,
Know then you Fen-bred Frogs, the time is come
Will give you a just Retribution
The Mighty God, the God of Battels has
Furbish'd that Sword which sav'd you then, to pass
Thorough your Bowels now, that hand which he
Advanc'd to break your Bonds and set you free
He'le arm with Vengeance, and Vindictive Rage,
To beat you into your first Vassallage.
N. R.