Now now the Tories all shall stoop,
Religion and the Laws,
And Whigs of Common-wealth get up,
to Top the Good old Cause:
Tantivy-Boys shall all go down,
and Haughty Monarchy;
The Leathern-Cap shall brave the Crown
Then Hey Boys up go We.

When once that Anti-ceristian Crew
are Chrush’d and overthrown,
We'l teach the Nobles how to bow,
and keep the Gentry down;
Good Manners has a bad repute,
nnd tends to Pride we see,
We’l therefore cry all Breeding down,
And Hey Boys &c.

The Name of Lords shall be abhor’d,
for ev’ry Man’s a Brother,
What Reason then in Church or State,
one Man should Rule another?
Thus having Pill’d and Plunder’d all,
and Level’d each Degree,
We’l make their plump young daughters fall
And Hey Boys &c.

What though the King and Parliament,
cannot accord together,
We have good cause to be content,
this is our Sun-shine Weather:
For if Good Reason should take place,
and they should both agree,
z— who’d be in a Round-Heads case,
For hey then &c.

We’l down with all the Versities
where Learning is profest:
For they still practice and maintain
the Language of the Beast:
We’l exercise in e’ry place,
and Preach beneath a Tree:
We’l make a Pulpit of a Cask,
For hey then &c.

The Whigs shall rule Committee-Chair,
who will such Laws invent,
As shall Exclude the Lawful Heir
by Act of Parliament:
We’l cut his Royal Highness down,
e’n shorter by the Knee:
That he shall never reach the Throne,
Then Hey Boys &c.

We’l smite the Idol in Guild-Hal,
and then (as we were wont)
We’l cry it was a Popish-Plot,
and Swear those Rogues have don’t:
His Royal Highness to un-throne,
our Interest will be:
For if he e’re enjoy his own,
Then Hey Boys &c.

Rebellion was a Thrveing Trade
on this our English Coast:
When Pauls-Church was a Stable made,
then Troopers Rul’d the Roast:
Then Loyalty was call’d a Crime,
in Anno Forty-Three:
A Godly Reformation time,
For hey then &c.

When three great Nations sweat in blood
and many thousand slain:
The bosome of the Earth bestrew’d,
then Godliness was Gain:
But now the Days are alter’d since,
as College plain did see:
If we Rebel against our Prince,
to Tyb[urn] go we. urn y

We’l break the Windows which the Whore
of Babylon has Painted,
And when their B—s are pull’d down,
Our Deacons shall be Sainted:
Thus having quite Enslav’d the town,
pretending to set Free,
At last the Gallows claims its own.
Then Hey Boys &c.