When Sol in shades of night was lost,
And all was fast asleep,
In glided Townley's murder'd ghost,
And stood at William's feet.
Infernal wretch, away! he cried,
And view the mangled shade,
Who on thy perjur'd faith relied,
And basely was betray'd.
Embrued in bliss, embalm'd in ease,
Tho' now thou seem'st to lie,
My injur'd shade shall gall thine ease,
And make thee beg to die.
Think on the hellish acts you've done,
The thousands you've betray'd:
Nero himself would blush to own
The slaughter thou hast made.
Not infants' shrieks, nor parents' tears,
Could stop thy bloody hand;
Nor even ravish'd virgins' tears
Appease thy dire command.
But oh! what pangs are set apart
In hell, thou'lt shortly see;
Where even all the damn'd will start
To view a fiend like thee.
With speed, affrighted, William rose,
All trembling, wan, and pale;
And to his cruel sire he goes,
And tells the dreadful tale.
Cheer up, my dear, my darling son,
The bold usurper said;
Never repent of what you've done,
Nor be at all dismay'd
If we on Stuart's throne can dwell,
And reign securely here,
The uncle Satan's king of hell,
And he'll protect us there!