Libera nos, Domine.
From wretchedly living in our poor Condition;
From Beggars, whose Pride for great Places petition;
Or else from the Dunghil wou’d bear a Commission.
Libera nos, Domine.
From Mayors, full as foolish as guzling Churchwardens,
From Dublin, full of Whores as the Spring-Gardens;
From a Papist, whose Heart against Protestants hardens;
Libera nos, Domine.
From running o’er Bogs, in all sorts of Weather,