Muziekstuk:
King's Health - Joy to Great
Caesar
Joy to great Cesar,
Long Life, Love, and Pleasure;
'Tis a Health that Divine is,
Fill the Bowle high as mine is;
Let none fear a fever,
But take it off thus Boys.
Let the King live for ever,
'Tis no matter for us Boys,
Try all the Loyal,
Defy all.
Give denial;
Sure none thinks the Glass too big here,
Nor any prig here,
Or sneaking Whig here,
Of Cripple Tony's Crew,
That now looks bleu,
His heart aches too,
The tap won't do,
His zeal so true,
And Projects new,
Ill fate does now pursue.
Let Tories guard the King,
Let Whigs in Halters swing;
Let Pilk, and Shute be sham'd,
Let Oates be damn'd;
Let cheating Player be nick'd,
The turncoat scribe be kick'd.
Let rebel city dons
Ne'er beget their sons:
Let ev'ry Whiggish Peer,
That rapes a Lady fair
And leaves his only dear
The Sheets to gnaw and tear,
Be punish'd out of hand,
And forced to pawn his land
T'attone the grand Affair
Great Charles, like Jehovah,
Spares those would un-king him;
And warms with his graces,
The vipers that sting him:
Till crown'd with just anger,
The rebels he seizes;
Thus Heaven can thunder
When ever it pleases
Then to the Duke fill, fill up the Glass,
The Son of our Martyr, beloved of the King.
Envy'd and loved,
Yet bless'd from above,
Secured by an Angel safe under his wing
Faction and Folly,
And State Melancholy,
With Tony in Whigland forever shall dwell.
Let wit, wine and beauty, then teach us our Duty,
For none e're can love, or be wise and rebel
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