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A song Mr.______ of ______ College, Oxford, Who being catched in a Frolic on the 5th of Nov, at night, had it imposed as a task to write something on that day.

SOME twelve months ago, An hundred or so, The Pope went to visit the Devil; And as you will find, Old Nick to a friend Can behave himself wondrous civil.

Then strait quoth the Seer, What the de'el brought you here? 'Twas certain, some whimsical maggot; Come, draw to a chair, Nay, prithee, sit near, Here, sirrah, lay on t'other faggot.

You're welcome to H-ll, I hope friends are well At Paris, Madrid and at Rome: I suppose honest Pope, Since now you elope, The Conclave will hang out the broom.

Then his Holiness cry'd, All jesting aside, Give the Pope and the Devil their dues; Never fear, my old dad, But I'll make thy heart glad, For by Jove I do bring thee brave news.

There's a plot to beguile An obstinate isle, Great Britain, that Heretic Nation, who so shyly behav'd In hopes of being fav'd By the help of a d-mn'd Reformation.

When the King with his son To the Parliment's gone To consult about old musty papers, We'll give them a greeting, Shall Break up their meeting, And try who can cut the best capers.

We shall never have done If we burn one by one Tis such a d-mn'd numerous race; For when one is dead, Like the fam'd hydra's head, Another starts up in his place.

Believe me, Old Nick, We'll play them a trick, A trick that shall serve for the nonce; This day before dinner, (Or else I'm a sinner) We'll burn all the rascals at once.