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STATE CASES PUT TO Iack Presbyter.
JAck if you have one Grain of Sence,
That's free from pride and Impudence,
Say something in your own Defence.
But Lye not.
VVhy dost thou make our Blood recoil,
VVith noise of Plots and Popish Guile,
VVhile you're the Traytor all the while.
And Bygot?
VVhy dost thou brood upon the Plot,
To hatch the Mischiefs Room cou'd not,
And play th'old Game? but we have caught
Ye Napping.
VVhy did the little Dorset Eel,
To make the Brain sick Crowd Rebel,
Sad storys in the City tell,
And Wapping?
What did the western progress mean,
When a fine Duke did march between,
L. Gray and Tommy to be seen.
Oth' Women?