the Best of KINGS These things I did observe and many more But Tyr'd with the Relation I 'll give o'er True Loyalty in its Colours Or a Survey of the Laudable Address of the young Men and Apprentices of the City of London to His MAJESTY NO Name because you can't write well a Fist Is a Good Hand that can write Loyalist Go on Brave Youths and let your Paper show What Love what Service to your King you ow. How well Now London must be Judge of Thee When in thy Sons we find such Loyalty What Though the Jesuits a brooding lye To hatch for us a Mortal Enemy Loyal Addresses shall like thunder kill The Poison-gathering Viper in the Shell And quickly make the Factious Gang leave off To Lace their Coffee with Seditious Stuff The Roul contains most Trades who Swear they 'l be One Man t' oppose their Princes Enemy Th' Ingenuous Pothecary makes up a Pill And Swears it knows both how to Salve and Kill The Keen edg'd Barber with his Razor votes Instead of Cutting Beards to Cut their Throats The Shooe-Maker protests he 'd rather choose To wind Cord for their Necks than for their Shooes The Cobler too wou'd meddle with the Fools And wou'd instead of Soles Translate their Souls The Nimble Taylor swears each Finger itches To cut their Coats more than to sow their Breeches The brisk Vpholsterer swears by his Feather Their Souls and Bodies he will Quilt together The Damming Vintner Vows next time to bring Confounded wine to them that hate his King The Greasy Butcher Swears by 's Oxe's Head That at one Blow he 'll strike Sedition Dead Then Cut it open Quarter it and Treat The Devil with a Dainty Dish of Meat The Cockt-up Haberdasher briskly debates For Brushing of their Coats instead of Hats The Artificial Surgeon fain would Box 'em And send them all to Hell with a Pox to ' em The Cook cries cram 'em in my Pot 's Belly And I will stew their Rump-Beef to a Jelly A Carpenter comes in with a few Cringes And fain wou'd have 'em Hang'd upon new Hinges Then a Hot Bell-Founder cryes out of Spite They dead my Trade let them be hang'd outright But the slye Broaker Vows he dos not dare Venter his Coyn on such deceitful Ware Next unto him comes the ruff Brick-layer And he 's for Building up the Common Prayer The Loyal Coach-man this Sentence Broaches I am for making Plotters draw my Coaches The Brazier is for Burning them to see What Mettle afterwards they 'l prove to be The Strong-Water-Man would be at Stilling Of their ill Humours not at Killing Then comes the Lawyer hatching of some Evil And fain would bring him into Bond with th' Devil But says the Attorney Let 'em make uds luds An Execution t' me of Body and Goods The Rare-loyal Weaver makes a pother To have 'em Kickt from th' one side to the other The Gold-smith likes 'em best for well he knows Such Mettle both for Gold and Silver goes They 'l take what stamp we please they are such Witches A Caesar's Head as well as Oliver's Breeches Last comes a Printer and sayes Let me Dye If I don't brand 'em to Eternity I will transfer to future Age their Plot And what Reward their cunning Coleman got I will Transprint King Charles his Death and bid The Children Weep for what their Fathers did Papists and Factious both shall go to Pot While the True Loyally Draws a better Lot Loyalty Triumphant Or a Poem on the Numerous Loyal Addresses to His MAJESTY ROuse up my Muse For how in such a Cause Canst thou be Lazy or admit a Pause Why do not Words flow faster then thy Ink Or forward Verse scarce give the leave to think Thy Pen in such a Cause should Pregnant be To Write thy Fellow-Subjects Loyalty Subjects that dare in spight of Faction show How much they to the best of Princes owe That dare in spight of all the Politick Crew Who would the People and their KING subdue Be truly Loyal Honest Just and Good Four things the Others never understood Or if they ever did have long forgot Since first Sedition in their Hearts took Root Their Leaders Soul as well as Eyes do squint And could we search the Heart the Devil 's in 't He seems in shew as Loyal as the best But a full Fury Lodges in his Breast Ambition that Curst Fiend that fain would Tread Once more upon his Royal Masters Head Nor are his Followers behind in Zeal T' advance the Good Old Cause and Common-weal Reading the Votes of Parliament I found The KING with honest Men encoâ—â—ast round Who for the Publick Good did Wisely Vote That He for Tangier should not have a Groat At His own Charge He must the War maintain Or Tangier might be Lost for He in vain Assistance sought from them unless He 'ed give In Pawn for it His own Prerogative And against Nature's Laws cease to Defend An only Brother and a faithful Friend He must Exclude Him from the English Crown That when Great York they once had tumbled down They might set up an Idol of their own Whom if they cannot manage to their wills And make him Authorise unheard of Ills They 'l without scruple hurle them head-long down And tearing from his Brows the totter'd Crown Each will be King and set it on his own Amongst five Hundred Men some few there were That durst for Loyalty and Truth declare That durst the King's Prerogative Maintain ' Gainst Mighty Matchivel and all his Train But once discover'd they like common Foes Or Spies upon the Actions of the House Are first made Kneel before the Bar and then Our Loyalists such Principles despise Are still contriving how their King may rise How they may make Him Powerful and Great And in full Splendour keep his Royal Seat Still acting what their chearful words express Whilst each of them performs a whole Address Oh! may they still persist in doing well Till there be no Tongue left their Deeds to tell That they who did in This their King regard May in the other world meet their Reward The Club of Royalists COme Ganemede and fill each Glass with Wine Let each Muse Drink her share then fill up mine I with the Nine will Revel all this night Till Charles his Health bring back the Morning Light But hold a little Whither am I gone What need I run so far as Helicon Whilst Riding on each Beam the Sun doth bear As Loyal Drinkers as the Muses are For they I fear have caught th' infection too Since their own Sons bravely themselves undo For one who formerly stood Candidate For Wit and Sense with Men of highest Rate Apostatizes from his former Acts And from his own Cambyses Fame detracts No more in Verse his Mighty Talent shows But Libels Princes with Malitious Prose This Man in Cornhill if you chance to meet Or near the Middle of Threadneedle-street Know 't is to pay his Homage
the Muses Task and Pride of Fame Pan â—arly chose and made him great in Pow'r When the Wolves rag'd and did our Flocks devouâ— He took the guard of the molested Plains Saw our Lambs â—â—d chear'd Vs srighted Swains Wak'd with us midst dark Nights and pinching Colds To drive the howling Monsters from our Folds In all which time Pyrrha His charming Bride Oft came and watch'd as He did by His side Of his worst dangers still her part would bear And for all Joys She gave him ask'd but care Now ye poor Flocks go bleat about and stray Ye Shepherds cast your Scrips and Hooks away Stretch'd on the ground your Fatal loss bemoan And call on Pyrrha's Name at ev'ry groan MYRTILLO Full fifty happy years this matchless Pair Liv'd in unshaken Love No Jealous care Or mean Distrust did once their Joys molest So in a Noble Off-spring were They blest Of Warlike Youths worthy their Fathers Name And Dâ—ughâ—â—â—s spotless as their Mothers Fame Bold Celadon the Darling of loud War And Strephon now whose pious shoulders bear The burden of his aged Fathers care Young Damon lovely as the Beams that play About our East and lead the coming Day Fair Phyllida who was with Aegon wed And blest Him with a Faithful Fruitful Bed Generous Lysca too by Nature taught To recommend the poor mans cause unsought ALEXIS All these the Off spring were of Pyrrha's Womb Come then ye Mothers mourn around Her Tomb In Pyrrha's Name your Mystick Rites perform When to your Aid ye would Lucina charm Either the lab'ring Matrons pangs to ease Or bless the Barren Mourner with increase MYRTILLO Oh! kind Alexis still pursue thy Song How these fair Branches grew or wither'd young ALEXIS Brave Celadon through â—ate untimely fail'd And was by Pan and all his Train bewail'd Some mourning Muses sung Him to his Tomb Yet others selt more grief and thence were dumb Young Damon faded in His Beauties Pride And Phyllida no less lamented dy'd But long may Strephon's Life rejoyce the years Of good Alcander and assist His Cares Fulness of time kind Heav'n to Lysea give 'T is for your Honour Gods that she should live For She the more of days you Her afford By Her good Deeds will make You more ador'd Since Lysea was of pious Pyrrha born And Pyrrha's Virtues Lysca's Heart adorn MYRTILLO Put what shall now give good Alcander joy ALEXIS The Gods when Fate took Celadon away Call'd Daphnis forth th' Heroick Race to run Which his great Parent had so well begun From Celadon's brave Loins young Daphnis came â—ull of His Heat and conscious of His Fame Whose Mind his Fathers Deeds did so imploy He grew Alcander's Hopes and Pyrrha's Joy Pâ—râ— ha lov'd Daphnis and with pleasure found The Hero's Virtues in the Youth abound When Daphnis languish'd Pyrrha did provide The charming soft Aminta for His Bride Aminâ—a tender as the Lambs that play In Sunny morns and Innocent as They Sweet as those â—vâ—ning Airs that gently blow Where the rich fragrant Eastern Spices grow Calm as our Groves in a fair Summers night And â—ovely as the first-created Light Daphnâ—â— wâ—s born Amintas with him joyn'd To chase all sorrows from Alcander's mind To add new Honours to His store of â—ame And a long Race of Heroes to His Name 〈◊〉 â—â—me which shall with Pyrrha's Praises last 〈◊〉 Time â— no more and Natures Works lie wast Funeral Tears to the Sacred Memory of our late Soveraign King CHARLES the Second THe Noon-day Star that once out-fac'd the Sun Charles his bright Phosphor has its period â—un And resting Charles with more six'd Glories crown'd Has past his mighty finish'd Circle rounâ— All th' untired race of Prodigies the late Continued shame of this Stupendious sate Which once his Restoration Lawrels bore Those never-sleeping Pores now move no more Myriads of Gardian Angels all disband And Wonders wait no more on his Right Hand Whilst Truth invincible unbyast Right Goodness unbounded Mercy Infinite Honour Unsullyed All the brightest Train Of Ministring Graces t' his Illustrious Raign Their Royal Robes to Funeral Sables turn All Mourners o're their Sacred Masters Urn But'midst the Tears our streaming Sorrows pour Three Wailing Kingdoms in one Loyal Showâ— How feebly does our Voice of Mourning sound Whilst Royal Eyes in deeper Griefs lie drown'd No Heart like James with killing Loads o're prest Kindest of Brothers and of Friends the best So sad the pangs of parting Friendship prove Immoderate Câ—ief and ever burning Love Râ—â—d His Great Soul and their keen passage sorce Methinkâ— I see Him at the Dire Divorce Whilst the Grâ—â—â— James like Great Telesia stands With 〈◊〉 Cryes and with up-lifted Hands With rended Garments and a flowing Showâ— Of bitt rest Tears deplores the dismal Hour Till from above behold the grining Sky The Fiery Steeds and Flaming Chariot fly Th' Ascending Saint ' midst shouting Angels round With purer Joys brighter Diadems Crown'd Here with sad Tyes he took His last Farewell And grasp'd the Wondrous Mantle as it fell With Prime Transmigrating Glories sir'd Fill'd with the Mounting God with the whole Charles inspir'd O Mighty Charles what have not only We Three Kingdoms but even Empire lost in Thee Founder of Monarchy for Thou alone â—â—ood'â—t the unshaken Bulwark of the Throne When the old Storm yawn'd for th' Imperial wrack Thâ— Hand â—â—one beat the sierce Torrent back â—â—ction 〈◊〉 by Thy strong Arm o'rethrown Whilâ—â—◠〈◊〉 World was Thy great work alone Glory and Peace but in Thy Sun-beams play Whilst thou' rt the God of our long Halcyon day The Old Fanatick Fiend so late before Drunk with a Martyr'd Monarchs Purple Gore Whilst with th' Old Poyson and th' Old Rage he stood All Thirsting for new Draughts of Royal Blood The Crowns long Foe and Blackest Imp of Hell His Sting just Fastning Thou alone couldst quell Thy Book of Fame with this last Glory fill'd What shall Great James on thy Foundations build Strike Royal Heir th' half Conquer'd Serpent dead Charles bruis'd his Teeth and Thou shalt crush his Head Peace Vnion Concord all so well begun Tho' Thou Great Charles thy Race like Moses run Thy People led by Thy Miraculous Hand To th' Milk and Honey of a Blessed Land Call'd hence too soon by the Almighty Voice Saw'st but the Borders of the Promis'd Joys That God-like Joshua sills Thy Royal Seat Who Thy unfinish'd Wonders shall compleat Translated Saint now thy â—ull Honours seize Blest with thy own Eternal Handmaid Peace Around thy Head Immortal Honours play Brighter thy own Restoration Day Like thy own Mercy soft be thy Repose Whilst on thy Brow that Perfum'd Fragrance flows Sweeter than the Odours even of that Rich Fame That shall Embalm Thy Everlasting Name SCOTLANDS Loyalty or Sorrowful Sighs on the Death of our late Soveraign His Sacred Majesty CHARLES by the Grace of God King of Great Britain France and Ireland c. LEt Musick cease yet let true Subjects Sing Sad Ela's
Note in Sorrow for our King Whom to the worth no Poet can bemoan Though all the Seas were turn'd to Helicon But there 's no need our Sorrow to Infuse Or strain Elogiums from a Mournful Muse In 〈◊〉 Hearts the cause of our sad Grief 〈◊〉 â—loods of Tears though in the end Relief Great Charles is Dead who was Great Britains King 〈◊〉 â—n Exploits who Trophies great did bring 〈…〉 and â—lenty to His own three Realms â—â—rough storms of State which he did turn to Calms Our by-past Prophesies did point Him forth Preceding Kings were Shadows of His worth Then cast up Virtues to one total sum Perfections Product will be found in Him We will Engrave His Name in Marble Pure With Diamond of the Black Rock to endure Till after Ages that our Children may Pay Tears for Tribute to His Sacred Clay Could men in Arms our Sorrows stroak assail Or floods of Tears with Cruel Death prevail We'd Muster all our Forces then with speed And Weeping Eyes should overflow the Tweed But sure the King of Kings hath giv'n the stroak And Mortals cannot Destiny revoke We 'll kiss the Rod though we the smart regrate Submitting though unto our rigid Fate Yet we 'll breath doleful Sighs to His sad Herse That 's dipt in Tears and Elegiack Verse T'immortalize Great Charles His Royal Name And be Memento's on the Wings of Fame Then rest dear Saint though dead yet still alive Though laid in dust Times Age thou shalt survive Thour' t mounted high above the Worlds renown With Kings and Priests to wear a Cross-less-Crown And though our Grief cannot our loss prevent Let this sad Verse but give our Passion vent EPITAPH HEre lyes Grave Majestick Dust Which when alive was Good and Just Great Charles the second Britain's King Whose valour makes us Weep and Sing His Crown environ'd was with Thorn Which makes His Subjects double Mourn By Land and Sea he did our Work The Fear and Terrour of the Turk He Peace to Europe did restore When other Kings had given it o'r Defender of the Faith that 's true Vntil he had the World adieu Let Princes Eternize His Name And make his worth their Diadem Now since the Sighs that did Eclipse our Skie By His Successors Light begins to flye O're Tears we 'll Triumph since our sore doth bring The surest Salve which is a Lawful King We 'll pâ—â— Allegiance due on Charles his score To JAMES the VII and many Millions more P. K. An Elegy on the Deplorable and never enough to be Lamented Death of the Illustrious and Serene CHARLES the Second KING of Great-Britain France and Ireland c. Who departed this Life February the 6th 1685. HAng all the Streets with Sable Sad and call The Royal Palace Black and not White-Hall Weep Sacred Beads of Loyal Tears and true Of Orient Pearl but Occidental Hew Since Britains Phoebus hath forsook the Stage Before he reach'd the Tropick of his Age. The interval betwixt our Setting Sun And Rising Soveraign ' ere his Light begun Was short yet till our Sorrow soung Relief We were near delug'd in the Seas of Grief Yet tho' our Soveraign doth our Mourning ' swage And gives our joy of Grief the Weather-gage We 'll make no Bonesires for it were in vain Our flowing Eyes would Weep them out again All Israel when good Hezekiah dy'd To his last Bâ—â—ath true â—â—oyal Honour pay'd Where 's then the Boldest Critick â—n deny 〈…〉 CHARLES his worth a Dâ—leful ELâ—GY 〈◊〉 Worth to Times last â—riod shall Endure In 〈◊〉 of Envy oâ— the Grave Secure And Children yet 〈◊〉 with Tears shall pay A 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 use â—o his sacred Clay He from His Child-hood was of great Renown He bore his Cross before he wore his Crown Brancht in the stock of Trouble 't is well known His Fruit was Ripe the Blossom yet unblown Great Britains Bane and Blush Eclips'd his Skie E'r England knew his Soveraignty But as his Sun ascended the Noon-day Aâ— Clouds like Vapours vanish'd quite away 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 â—right Calms of Peace did still remain â—â—â—ough the whole Circle of his Halcyon Reign Then Rest dear Saint tho' now Intomb'd in Dust Unâ—il the Resurrection of the Just And let our Mourners mitigate their Grief Because our Sorrow doth admit Relief The Vail of Death no Christian needs dismay The King of Kings Himself did guide the Way And since our Sore a Salve along doth bring God save Great JAMES our Second Soveraign King Let his Dâ—minions preface Black and White Since Rising Phoebus dissipates our Night Let Loyal Subjects all both cry and Sing Like Birdâ— Reviv d in the returning Spring Let Court and City raise their joyful Voice And Loyal Sighs still Eccho back Rejoyce Till Plotters all Conspiracies lay by And Treason turn to purest Loyalty Hence thâ—n projecting Traytors stand aloof His Loyal Throne is sure and Treason-Proof Lest sit on Edâ—e by old Seditious Smâ—â— Your Treasâ—ns Trapturn round upon your Neck His Presence may no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Resort Nor base 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 his Court But Reign in Peace whil'st we have in our Eye CHARLES still live in JAMES'S Royalty But since he 's Dead and gone let this sad Verse Tho' undeserving yet attend his Herse EPITAPH HEre lyes Great Charles the Just the Good As ever came of Royal Bloâ—d To Troubles Born he Early knew What Kings as Men are subject to His Morning Glâ—ries were â—'recast And by some Fatal Star Opprest But as his Sun ascended Noon The cruel Comet did fall Down In Peace he Liv'd in Peace he Dy'd The Kingdom and the Churches Guiâ—e The Guardian of the swelling Main The Terrour of the DUTCH and DANE At his Command all war did Cease And Europe Owes to him her Peace Diseases at his Power did Crouch And own the Virtue of his Touch. Let KINGS and PRINCES in him Glory And make his Reign their Directâ—ry To His Sacred Majesty King JAMES II. ALL Hail Great Prince whom â—â—'â—y Miracle Preserv'd for Vniversal Ruâ—â— When Time Your Wondrous Story shall unsold Your Gloriâ—us Deeds in Arms when â—â—â— but Young Your strange â—scapes and Dangerâ— shall be told Your Battles Fâ—â—ghâ— Your Guildâ—◠〈◊〉 is â—â—â— When yet the Elder Generals not in Fame Your Perils dar'st noâ— share Alone the raging Torrent You wou'd stem And bear before You the fierce Tide of War How Spain Records Your Glorious Name And how when Danger call'd for Britains good You paid the lavish Ransom of Your Blood When the Ingrates shall Blushing read How far great Souls the Vulgar can exceed In Patience Suffering and Humility Your Condescention and Your Banishment Then let the Obstinate convinc'd agree You only were preserv'd and fit for Sacred Government Come listen all whom needless fears possess And hear how Heav'n confirms Your Happiness Behold the Sacred Promis'd Prince Whom wond'rous Prophets Ages since Told When the Mystick figures of the Year To such a Number should Amount As sill this Lucky Years Account O're England
a while ago Us'd by Cantarogax Your Agent then To th' same Realms tho' but in vain since when Others with like Effects have us'd it I Us'd the experienc'd Rule Presbytery This was the method Mighty Lucifer That brought ten thousand Rebel Souls a year For twenty years together to this place For Python's part an 't please your Grace He hatch'd a Plot I must confess but what Effects did this his so much talkt of Plot Produce VVhy 'faith he e'en sent here no more Than those who were Your Grace's own before For my own part I to the House will give Of all my Actions a short Narrative In grave and comly Hypocritick Dress Bearing the outward form of Godliness I cloath'd my self and to Vtopia went Haunted the City Court and Parliament And in short time pick'd up a numerous Crew Of all Religions every Sect a few I made all those my own who took great pains To make their seeming Godliness their gains All those who use Religion for a fashion Or seem to thrive by th' ruine of the Nation All who 'd at Court their expectations crost Or by ill manners had Preferments lost All those who were engag'd in the late Broils In the King's Death and the three Nations Spoils And had this King 's late Act of Grace abus'd By their unnatural Ingratitudes All who had lost their Games and now would fain For their own turn have the Cards dealt again I found one fit at last to steer these right A Favourite of theirs a much fam'd VVight Capricio call'd and thereby hangs a Tale Meager his Visage is his Face as pale As his Deeds black Dame Nature sure design'd That by his out-side men might know his mind Hell 's in his Body and his shrivl'd Skin Seems dropping from his rotten Bones within His Corrupt Tortur'd Body does convey Fresh spleen and rancour to his Heart each day Which lest it shou'd o'reflow or by mishap Be over-charg'd from Sun or Fleece a Tap Is in his Body fixt with curious Art Which from his double Envy-canker'd heart By pumping does exhaust th' exundant Juice Reserving still enough for 's daily use With this half Fiend I many Consults had And we at last this Resolution made Almanzor's due Succession to oppose Among his many unprovoked Foes We chose young Marcion not for any love But to undo the Youth as time will prove Poor easie Prince he littte thinks that we Prostitute this his weak Credulity To our own use to Anarchize the State And hasten his two soon intended Fate Disgusted Lords we got some two or three To put their helping hands to Anarchy Amongst the rest one Libertino nam'd Of him I must confess I was asham'd His vicious Life did much disgrace the Cause But 't was enough his hate to King Church Laws And Goverment in general drew the rude Unthinking Jealous Headlong Multitude To esteem him so that he this Title bears One of the Protestant Utopian Peers With these in close Cabals sometimes I past And forg'd a feasible Design at last 'T was thought without some provocation 't were Not fit our Cause in publick should appear I pitch'd upon a Rogue the truth to tell Has not his Fellow even here in Hell Among our Crew we forg'd a Plot which he First brought to light A Re-discovery He made as soon swore to and was believ'd Then our good Party found themseves aggriev'd And cry'd aloud These Tories Brethen see Behold we say the Lords Delivery This was some Bishop sure or Masquerader Soon after this a Son accus'd his Father Forward and backward swears at last he vows Sir He was subborn'd by that same Papist Towzer Things went on well now they thought 't was time The Ladder of Rebellion they should clime The Senate sate High for the Good Old Cause Magna Charta and Fundamental Laws No Arbitrary Power but we must give Necessary Limits to Prerogative Tho' the King mayn't yet We may break the Laws Punish at pleasure though without a Cause Then must Almanzor be excluded He Has too much Spirit too much bravery They must and will have presently Redress Of a long Bead-roll of Grievances And these are such as the K. won't nor can't Nature and Conscience will not let him grant If not no Money Sirs what e're come on 't A Fig for Foreign Foes so the K. want Councellors must be tax'd and most of all Hali whom they had nought to charge withal But only ' cause he could discern the weather And judge when Elements would clash together They do not think it safe that any Lord That has but sense should sit at Council-Board Those that sit there should in their Foreheads have Their Beast-ships mark of either Fool or Knave Who lov'd the K. was Voted straight to be Betrayer of the Subjects Liberty And their old long-lov'd Darling Property Capricio tells them next they want a Prince Fit to be trusted with the Rule and since The present King 's not such they think 't were fit That they be trusted both with Him and It. In short I 've brought that Kingdom now of late In all Conformity so near our State That whosoever sees both will surely Swear 'T is an exact true Pattern of This here Then such loud shouts from all the Senate came That I awak'd and found it but a Dream SEJANUS Or the Popular Favorite now in his solitude and Sufferings IS this thy Glory now is this thy Pride Of sticking to the Saints and Godly side Religious bugbear words that fright from hence From Subject all their Loyalty to Prince Make black Rebellion seem white Innocence Entitle Heaven to the vilest Crimes Make Deity like th' Rabble blame the Times Mad Zealots so Atheistically civil Baspheme the Gods to Complement the Devil The mightiest of the inspir'd Saints is come To Crown himself with fancy'd Martyrdom Geneva Whig that still cries out at Rome But raises still Domestick Broils at home How quietly Great Charles might end his Reign Which all in troubles the poor Prince began Now vext by Ghost meer shadow of a Man The cunning Hypocrite that still can spy The smallest Mote in his kind Prince's eye By Zeal and Nature made so double blind That in his own the Beam he cannot find Some say but one vast Luminary stands In 's surrow'd brow and watches all the Land But sunk into its hole crept out of sight As if it were afraid to see the Light His Skull 's too narrow Circle can't contain His Tow'ring thought vast Gygantick brain Blinded again with hopes of Reformation Poor little Poliphemus of the Nation That mighty Monster brav'd the rising Floud And this can wade thro' a whole Sea of Blood How hath this wretched Isle been chang'd and curst Since thou wert born and since it knew thee first How did its Tributary Rivers pay A bloody dreadful Homage to the Sea VVhilst on the Purpl'd Ocean thou didst ride And tack about still with the Wind and
Undertook Till K. was kill'd and th'Son the Land forsook And then the Scepter fell in Traitours Hands And I was ready to assist Commands Then I was made a Minister of State And found a way the Church to Extirpate Then I helpt Noll to set up Presbyters And pull'd the Bishops Surplice o're their ears And made the Clergy look like Privateers As they went down Tub-Preachers they did rise Preach'd Order Altar down and Sacrifice I made him know through States great Policy Those were the men to maintain Tirany Noll being safe by what I had done for him Suspected me ' cause I Betray'd my King Then to our Tribe he openly Proclaims He 'd never Trust a man that had three Names He Smoak'd my Soul from its Minority Still to be Opposite to all Authority Then I was forc'd new Measures for to take With the Kings Friends some small Contracts did make I Beg'd they wou'd with Patience be contented For the Kings Return a means was just invented But this was done when I could not prevent it I put my self i' th Front o' th Sufferers Tho' like to them I had neither Wounds not Scars When he arriv'd with glorious Acclamations And fill'd with Joys the Longing Expectations All Loyal Hearted Souls of these three Nations And every heart that had been Musket Proof For K. and Country under Fortunes Roof Had Broke the Fatal Spells of Slaveries With Joys did meet the King upon their Knees I like a Spaniel-whelp did lurk a Loof And Squint quite through the Opticks of my Hoof. Expecting when the K. on me would Call And cry my Merits up above them All. But when I found He did mind me no more Just to His Feet I Crept upon all Four Then Clutch'd his Royal Hand between my Paws As if I 'd never been for Good Old Cause Then His Clemency remitted what was past With Place and Title he my Honour Grac'd Which I improv'd till I was grown so High That I again did envy Monarchy Which being smelt by York I was Degraded And out of all my Dignities Defeated And ever since my Brain has been a working For Sweet Revenge my Soul hath still been lurking To several Attempts I did aspire E're I could pitch on one that would take Fire Till I had got this Fatal-Plot well grounded With Seconds and with sham-plots to surround it Which serves as Paint upon an old Bawds Face To fill up Furrows and to give a Grace As Painters always Imperfection Blaze And here we 'l make Friendly Fair Conclusion I prithee Doctor give me Absolution D. Nay hold a while your Crimes but now begin Sir These were but Virtues to your latter Sins Sir You must rub up your Brains and Face about We have the Plot-Mystick yet to Hammer out B. G Dam your Reverence let that go by You are as deep i' th dirt in that as I D. Pox rot your Honour that 's a Plaguy Lie You have confest you were the Engeneer That draw'd the Lines which way the Plot would Bear That who shou'd keep the Front and who the Rear B. And had not your Impudence still over acted Our Purpose long ere this had been Perfected D. 'Zounds 't was for that that I by you was chosen ' Cause I could Out-face all the Truth in Heaven B. But not to Snap the Council up like Peasants And call them Rascals in the Royal Presence Nor yet to call the Life-Guards Popish Traitors As if we were their Makers and Creators Nor to throw an Odium on them at their Inns. When you saw our party totter like Nine-pinns Too late to make the world esteem us Kings Nor to call Inn-keepers Rogues for entertaining The King's Life-Guards those things â—ivulg'd our meaning Nor to call your self the Saviour of the Nation As if there had been Oats from the Creation D. 'S death Have you not acted worse than this You vex me so I scarce have time to Pâ—sâ— You have these seven years made it your study To draw disgussed Parties to a Body You held Communion with Tub-Preachers juggling And draw'd their Brethren altogether smuggling Their holy Siscers with whom they Ingender And bring forth Brood that 's light with th' same Tinder Who are bred up in â—ears and Jealousies Wherewith you daily blind their pur-blind eyes And thus you draw the hearts of silly Subjects From their own Sovereign to be odious Objects For this Impression in their Infancy Deprives them of the sence of Loyalty Thus you seduce the Land for future Ages To be a Den of Bruits for wild out-rages Worse than wild Beasts who still own some Supreme Both Infidels and Indians do the same B. Had you this Doctrine from Salamanka Where you ne're were I know well Sir I thank ye You need not instance these most biting twinges Since our Designs are all slung off the hinges You 're ten times worse were your faults sum'd together Tho' thou pretend'st to be my Ghostly Father For thou art neither Prot ' Byter nor Papist Best thou canst boast of is Inhumane Atheist D. You cross old Cur resolve me these few Questions And I 'le importune you for no more Confessions Who was the cause of Scotlands late Rebellions Who promis'd to assist their Force with Millions Who was 't draw'd Perkin from his Royal Father To be cajoll'd into the Peoples Favour Who was 't contriv'd the drawing of Petitions To gull the Nation into blind Seditions Who was 't contriv'd Cabballing in the City And to school Evidence chose a Committee Who first contriv'd to Peach both Peers and Judges And make them scape before the Bar like drudges All those in eminent Places and great Favour Yet never could be brought in guilty neither Who told the Commons that ' gainst every Trial They must seclude all Members that were Loyal That none might ever pass for due Elected Unless approv'd on by the disaffected Who was it first that cursed Maxim mov'd That every Act for Money be 〈◊〉 Unless Prerogative were squeez'd â—â— shov'd Who was 't contriv'd to have the Guâ—â—ds indicted When we our selves the Citâ—-Guards united Who was it cry'd No Money for the King Till Kingly Powers into â—our hands we bring Who was it cry'd The King must not be trusted With his own Life while we are thus disgusted And that the People they were still in danger Of Native Papists and of Popish Stranger Till th' Militia Cinque-ports Navy and the rest Were all expos'd unto our Care and Trust Who was 't that writ the Address for Shire As if all had been Subscribers that were there A voting for the Members and had lear'd on 't Tho' ten in all the Number never heard on 't Who was it first invented the Black Box And the Black Bills which were to give such knocks Who was made privy unto Godfrey's Death For which three men already lost their breath Who was 't converted Law into a Cloak To shelter Knaves and Innocents to Choak Who was 't that
short a stay Ungrateful Countrey Barbarous Holland Shoar Cou'd the Battavian Climate do no more Her Shaftsbury's dear Life no longer save What a Republick Air and yet so quick a Oh! all ye scatter'd Sons of Titan weep This dismal day with solemn Mournings keep Like Isral's Molten-Calf your Medals burn And into Tears your Great Letemur turn Oh! wail in Dust to think how Fates dire frown Has thrown your dear Herculean Column down Oh Charon waft thy Load of Honour o'er And land Him safely on the Stygian Shoar At His Approach Fames loudest Trumpet call Cromwel Cook Ireton Bradshaw Hewson all From all the Courts below each well pleas'd All the Republick Legions numerous Host Swarm thick to see your Mighty Heroe land Crowd up the Shoar and blacken all the Strand And what'ere Chance on Earth or Pow'rs accurst Broke all your Bonds your Holy Leagues all burst This Union of the Saints no Storm shall sever This Last ASSOCIATION holds for ever Dagon's Fall Or Sir William Waller turn'd out of Commission GOod GOD what means this sudden Alteration The Fop that has so long disturb'd the Nation By 's Pride and Pomp and Pow'r is now Turn'd out And hardly pity'd by the silly Rout. He was as stout and lofty as old Hector Usurp'd the Power of our damn'd Protector As Fierce and Cruel as a Tyger's whelp He wanted neither strength nor art nor help To do and undo he was grown so great That the Creation was amaz'd to see 't He had his Coach and Horses Footmen too And into th' City rode to make a shew But little thought when drawn by Whitaker His fatal downfal it had been so near To put a Sword into a Madmans hand It may make Bloody Work within the Land Papists and Protestants were all alike Both sent to lodge with Church and thin-jaw'd Dyke No Day scarce pass'd without some mischief done Into all Companies the Fool did run The Goaler sure gave him a snack of Fees For Prisoners flock'd even like a Swarm of Bees Here Ten were sent him for a Popish Plot There Two more to please a Buggering Sot Then a New Plot is feign'd and more secur'd ' Uds flesh my Friends this cannot be endur'd Printers Apprentices and many more In all I do believe near twice two score They all are Plotters yet by Jove not one Can tell you what was said or what was done The Gate-house is become a Babel now Confusions came upon us none knew how But he that wrought the Mischief now is found 'T will puzzle any man to prove him sound He 's rotten at the Heart I 'll lay my Life No wonder he begot us all this Strife Well now the Cause is gone the effect will cease I hope we shall enjoy our former Peace This Leaven leaven'd the whole Lump And made us fear another sawcy Rump He study'd out new Plots and for what ends Only to please his Presbyterian Friends Ah but my Friend thou thy last Dice hast thrown For which the Presbyters begin to groan Thy buisie active Soul I do not jest Had lately sent it a Quietus est And that which doth thy Grief and Sorrow double Thou art not Rich for all thy needless trouble Soul take thine ease thou very well mai'st sing For thou hast got a Writ of ease from th' King Thou hast much Goods laid up for many years Say that and I will give thee both my Eâ—â—s Leave but the Factious out go through the City Thou wilt not find a Man enclin'd to pity Hang him cries one he was a buisie Knave He shew'd no Mercy nor he none shall have Mischief was all his aim and his design When he brought Hickey to a glass of Wine The mischief which so eagerly he sought For others he himself too dearly bought But I am almost weary of my Rhimes For I consider these are Trayterous Times Had but this buisie Fool his late Commission This wou'd have cost me a devout Submission I had been surely sent to Goal for Treason As Thompson was and had a greater Reason But God be thanked curst-Cows have short Horns He must and shall endure our Flouts and Scorns We may go boldly on and fear no fall No painted Staff will answer at his Call Now he is down down with him now 's the Season For if he rise he 'l Goal us all for TREASON A Dialogue betwixt the Devil and the Ignoramus Salamanca Doctor Devil Bâ—hold from the Infernal Lake I 'm come To fright thy Soul to it's Eternal Doom To tell thee Villain that thy Reign 's expir'd And now be sure thou shalt no longer hir'd â—e by Me no nor any of the Damn'd To drench in Innocent Blood this mournful Land Hence then begone and do no more pursue Villanies Hell could ne'er act but by you Now Heaven stops my Power and I thy Hand And now I tell thee Doctor Thou art damn'd Doctor O Spectre spare a while my dreadful Doom Go back and tell the Damn'd I come I come Only let me compleat the Ills I 've begun Then Heaven farewel and unto You I come Devil The Blood o' th' Innocent aloud does cry Revenge Revenge on cursed Doctor Ti No more o' th' Innocent shall bleed nor die Doctor Well the time 's come the fatal day 's at hand That I for ever ever must be damn'd O curs'd Revenge what Mischiefs have I done Abjur'd the Father and blasphem'd the Son The Sacred Spirit of Truth at once have I Banish'd and that my vengeance I might buy I 've caus'd the best of Innocents to dye See where their Ghosts appear in Purple ray'd afresh Victims by Perjury alone betray'd See how they shake their Heads and bleed Their wounds gape wide in their new murder'd flesh And these most frightful Visions come cause I Th' bloody Villanous Murderer stand by 'T is true that I the cruel Murderer am And thousands more by Perjury to trepan I solemnly did vow and often swear And none t' escape from the Peasant to the Peer Nay Sacred Prelates Princes Queens and Kings Should have made up my Bloody Offerings Ten Thousand more of Innocents had dy'd ' Cause I King Queen and Duke had Sacrific'd Cities and Towns I 'd Fir'd if not withstood And quench'd the flames with Innocent Blood Let me but live in this world three years more This Island then shall swim in Christian gore I 'le subvert Governments and murder Kings Sow discord among Friends I 'le do such things Shall make the World believe there is not that Villanous thing I have not power to act I 'le make the World believe let me but stay That Light is Darkness and that Night is Day That I the Saviour of the Nation am And that CHRIST was of no avail to Man Then I the Sacred Gospels will destroy Swear they 'r but fictious Stories and a Lye Perswade them that the Bible's but a Farce No more to be esteem'd than is my A So I 'le improve the
to the Sun Or rather to the Hot-brain'd Phaeton Whom Ovid blames but he does more commend Advising straight the Chariot to Ascend What Though the world once more were set on Fire Shall his Young Heroe bawk his great Desire No let the Head-strong Youth his Steeds drive on Tread on his Fathers Counsels and his Throne I envy not those happy Men that Ride With him in 's Guilded Coach my humble Pride Desires no Courser but a Hoggs-heads Back Where mounted with a Bowl of Sparkling Sack With Russel Capel Cooper and the rest I 'le Drink Confusion to each Caballist Damn their Sun-Tavern Clubbs but hold my Rage Condemns the only Honest Men of th' Age The truest Patriots England ' ere did breed Who Viper-like on their own Mother feed Tear up their Bowels with a base pretence Of feigned Piety and Conscience Good Gentlemen how careful are they grown To suppress Papists and subvert the Throne They for Religion strive but wise men know From whence their greatest Discontents do flow Zeal for the Good Old Cause enflames their breast But the chief Fuell's Private Interest The Dissenter truly Described WHat shall a glorious Nation be o'rthrown By Troops of Sneaking Rascals of our own Must Civil and Ecclesiastick Laws Once Truckle more under the good Old Cause Shall these Ungrateful Varlets think to Live Only to Clip Royal Prerogative Shall all our Blood turn Whey whilst we do see Men both Affront and Stab the Monarchy I 'm all inflam'd with a Poetick Rage And will Chastise the Follies of the Age. Thoughts crowd so fast upon me I must write Till I 've display'd the Gaudy Hypocrite He 's one that scarcely can be call'd a Man And yet 's a Pious Holy Christian. He 's big with Saving Faith he says yet He Has not one spark of common Charity ' Gainst Reason he perpetually whines Because it Contradicts his Black Designs He dis-esteems dull Morals for a Saint My well-beloved Brethren must not want Soul-warming Thoughts so warm that they did dwell First in the Womb then at the Breasts of Hell He Flouts the Common Prayers yet the poor Fool Himself not Them does turn to Ridicule He hates a Form yet loves his dear Non-sense Nauseats his God with his Impertinence With Eyes turn'd up Mouth screw'd and Monky-Face He lowdly bawls to God for Saving Grace With Meen so base and scurvy as if even His Apish Postures only would please Heaven And then his Sniv'ling Tone to the most High He does conclude is Curious Melody If Things succeed not as his Humour wou'd He strait grows Angry and he Huffs his God And this as if God knew not what to do And that wou'd have been for thy Glory too Then Muffl'd in his Cloak Roger begins In 's Sermon to dawb forth Soul-killing-sins Murder and Theft and Pride and Gluttony c. Which in their Lives none more Applauds than He. Yet if you do survey the List with care You 'l quickly find Rebellion is hid there And when he 's prest to Duties for some Hours He ne'r puts in The Higher Powers At Surplice and Lawn-sleeves he takes offence Because they are the Types of Innocence For that he hates and with It men of Sense The Reverend Prelates he still vilifies ' Cause they detect his cursed Villanies Hang them they bark come let us pull them down For this same Mitre does support the Crown They 'r the King's truest Friends yet thought it good To drown his Kingdoms in a Sea of Blood They the King's Person would protect they said Yes yes forsooth by Cutting off his Head And this they did inspir'd by Zeal alone To fasten Christ in his Triumphant Throne As if Damn'd Lyes False Oaths and base Deceit Propt up his Throne and made him truly Great As if the Devil himself that acted them Did bring the Luster to His Diadem Nay they go on yet with the same Intents By moulding to their Minds New Parliaments Some of the Great they by their whimseys guide To like their Treason and to stem their Pride In other things like methods they pursue For even the Shrieves must be Fanaticks too The Judges too they 'd to their Party gain Did they want either Honesty or Brain And when their Wheedling Tricks do fail on these They poison soon some Countrey Justices Then had they once the dear Militia They 'd mount the Saddle and make Charles obey Thus first they 'd make Him but a very Straw And then at List controll and give Him Law In fine they are the Foes of Royal State Order is the great Object of their Hate Nor God nor Men these Furies seek to please They 'd bruise the Crown and tear our Surplices They'd Undermine the Churches Harmony And Ride a full Carier to Popery They all Mankind except Themselves Despise Chiefly the Great for being Good and Wise Some Subtile have and some have Giddy Souls Some Fools some Knaves and some are Knaves and Fools These Vermine would even the best things command And suck all the Sweetness of the Land The Loyal LETANY FRom a new model'd Jesuit in a Scotch Bonnet With a Mass under 's sleeve and a Covenant on it From Irish Sedition blown out of French Sonnet Libera nos Dom. From Conspiring at Joe's and Caballing at Mews From Sr. Gutts holy Tub of Uncircumcis'd Jews From Gibbet and Halter which will be their dues Lib. c. From a Parliament-man rak'd out of thâ— Embers From Knights that haunt Counters and Lunatick Members From Presbyt Januaries and Papists Novembers Lib. c. From hugging a Witch and consulting the Devil From Welch Reprimands which are something uncivil From the Touch of a Scot to cure the King's-evil Lib. c. From the mutinous Clamours of such as raise fears From those that wou'd set us together by the Ears Who still for the Shipwrack of Monarchy steers Lib. c. From Rebellion wrapt up in a Humble Petition From the Crafty Intrigues of a Suttle Politician From a Geneva Divine and a Staffords Physician Lib. c. From serving Great Charles as his Father before And Dis-inheriting of York without why or wherefore And from such as Absalom has been or more Lib. c. From Libelling the Government and Actions of Kings From Vindicating Sectaries in Illegal Things From Encouraging Faction which Rebell brings Lib. c. From Murmuring for sending the Parliament home From choosing Fanaticks to sit in their Room That the Actions of Forty may not be our doom Lib. c. From late Irish Massacres by Paptsts done From Seditious Cut-troats which thing is all one From murthering the Father and banishing the Son Lib. c From putting three Towns to the Sword in Cool Blood From robbing and spoiling the Land for its Good From Cloaking their Crimes by a Warrant from God Lib. c. From shrouding all Villanies under the Cause From making us happy by giving Sword Laws From Trampling o' th Mitre and Crown with Applause Lib.
c. From Hunting the King and abjuring his Race From Cleansers of Bung holes usurping his place From Preachers in Tubbs that are void of all Grace Lib. c. From Vulcan's Treasons late forg'd by the Fan From starving of Mice to be Parliament-man From his Copper Face thet outface all things can Lib. c. From Unbridling the Faction the King to dismount From giving for each thing to Subjects account From letting P's Domineere as they were wont Lib. c. From Voting Lords useless and dangerously Ill From hanging of Bishops up for dropping the Bill From letting Fanaticks have too much of their Will Lib. c. From purging the House to obstruct our free choice From Resolving the King to Oppose with one Voice From such that at Mischief do daily rejoyce Lib. c. From all the Seditious that love not the King From such as a Civil War once more would bring Deliver us good Lord let each true Subject sing Lib. c. The Fanatick Rampant Or an Election at Cambridge ONE day I heard a zealous shout I then look'd up and lo the Rout Of Saints were come to Town Who by their Hats right gravely set And Collar-bands I guess were met To cry the Bishops down But see how grosly I did err For they came only to prepare Against that Codly bustle And therefore did most fervently With Carnal Throats extended cry A Russel yea a Russel Some cry'd a Russel some again Mistook the Name and cry'd Amen Some with erected Fist Cry'd O we find by Revelation That this is He must heal the Nation And hamstring Antichrist At length there comes me a Free-holder With Head inclin'd to the Left Sholder And Circumcised Hair Who with his Snout all wet with Snivel And looks enough to scare a Devil Did thus begin his Prayer Lord if thou dost thy Saints regard Look on the Keepers of thy Heard Even on thy chosen Russel See but what honour we have done him And then thou needs must poure upon him Thy blessings by the Bushel Thy tender Flock Lord he 'll not pound But doth regard the Poor Lord he hath done more for my Wife Than e're I did in all my Life O blessed Senatour Do thou in time his Worship bring To be to be a Lordish thing As was his Noble Kin Thou seest how He alone doth stand And hates the great ones of the Land O well doth he begin Then give him Grace Lord not to cease Till he hath broke the Cord of Peace That Girdle of the Whore That we again may see that day In which we all may preach and pray And then I 'le ask no more With rhat I spy'd an Image fair High mounted in his stately Chair I think to mock the Pope Down Brethren to the Gallows gang Said I he shall not burn but hang. Though I pay for the Rope Poor Robin's Dream Or the Visions of Hell WHen th'charming News had passed Charing Cross And they depos'd that would dismount that Horse The Senatours their hated patience forc't As Thames once for Sempronia stopt her course Like Boys that were just from a Vineyard scar'd All stood amaz'd but ne'er a word was heard But when they found they were pursu'd by none But th' Master stood only to keep his own They then unto their wonted Passion flew And swore they 'd prove those Grapes to be their due Next time they came they 'd have their Master too I' th City All their steady-Heads they tost Like Wives at Billingsgate when a good Bargain 's lost Ballads of grief about the Town they sent As if they lost a Loyal Parliament Such clam'rous Consternations with safe Cryes Enough to tear great Jove down from the Skies None daring to confront those Factious Athiests Dreading the scand'lous Name they call Church-Papists Then I e'ne laid me down upon my Bed Where sundry Contemplations seiz'd my troubled Head In a trembling Trance I on a sudden fell Wherein I saw that damned Den call'd Hell Where ten thousand Sons with Legions of black Fiends Of burning Reb. there they made their Skreens Old Noll and Bradshaw Ireton and Pride Burning like Beacons on the other side Then perjur'd Rogues drawn up in arched Rings Their Tongues like Serpents shew'd their flaming Stings Thought I is this the fruit of killing Kings When that Scene chang'd methought I clearly saw A solemn Conventicle groan out yells of woe Their Hats pinn'd to their heads with siery nails Their Ears drawn out as large as Spanish Frails Their Eyes like oval Lanthorns glowing Rouls Or flaming â—lambois from their treach'rous Souls Their Mouths unto their ugly Ears were drawn Spirits froth'd out like poison'd foul Frog-spawn Upon their Backs was writ in Blood I see Damn'd for Rebellion and Hypocrisie ' Mongst this prodigious and confused Throng The Holder forth was called Dr. Tonge Who so excell'd Hugh Peters being there That he was forc'd to fall into the Reer Till interposed by a Champion stout With flaming Sword made way through th' hellish Rout. Bedlow And cry'd to Tongue thou damn'd Orator Thou art the cause of my Soul burning here Tonge Why what wast thou when first I did thee know But one condemn'd for Robbery by the Law Bedlow Why what wast thou poor Fool in Forty one But a poor Weaver just leapt from thy Loom Then stept into a Tub to preach Sedition And tookst the Covenant for thy Commission Which thou pursu'dst till all the Rump was ruin'd And Charles return'd and to his Right resum'd And then thou mad'st a Breech of thy own Mouth Sworst back again but never preachedst Truth And in thy Age more treach'rous than in youth Tonge That cannot be imputed Perjury To swear for those that rule by Tyranny Or for any else as Times may turn by fits That 's but a Knack of living by ones Wits But I ne'er Rob'd upon the King's High-way Nor boasted on 't unto my Friends next day Nor I ne'er feign'd my self to be a Lord Nor pilfer'd Coyn without the help of Sword Nor ne'er was proved perjur'd by Record Bedlow Thou damned Hell-hound hast thou now forgot Who was so active in the Popish Plot 'T was Thou that patch't up our Depositions And then deliver'd them without Commissions Which thou madst him pretend he had disperst Then thou thy self turn'd Tail and was releast Yet still thou didst persevere in thy Sin Taught Tony and the rest to bring me in To meet you at Cabals and Foxes-Hall Where I receiv'd my Lessons from you all You taught me what to speak who to impeach All Loyalists you brought within my reach Both Queen and Duke â— to the Block must bring Nay had I'liv'd I must have peacht the K Now who 's the cause of my Soul's suffering Tonge All this I own was Truth and ten times more But thy black Soul was damned long before Thou had'st committed Murther Theft and Rape So 't was impossible thy Soul shou'd ' scape For had'st thou liv'd till each