Selected quad for the lemma: city_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
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A32736
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The charter a comical satyr / written by an unknown hand.
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1682
(1682)
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Wing C3722; ESTC R5654
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8,060
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16
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to Mortals than the Fringe Of Heaven The Soul of Body and ' State And ev'ry Nerve's imploy'd to serve its Hate The Cunning and the Crafty must be bought The Young and Sportive they are easy caught The Discontented must be left alive VVith hopes of his ambitious Retrieve Sticks of all sorts and sizes it must get To make the Flame and to increase the heat And still Religion makes the Oven red Or else quite spoild's the Batch of Ginger-bread Then crawls the Insects forth their Kingdoms come Still where the Carrion is those Creatures rome And buzzing up and down the Town they cry For Liberty and for the Truth we 'l die VVhat Snake-hair'd Jury with Infernal Brand Broke loose from Hell thus to Inflame the Land Take a Survey of all the World beside Subjects are Slaves each English seems a Dride If Heaven should bid a Subject to implore VVhat Bliss we want he could not ask for more Oh the unhappy State of Happiness They enjoy more that do enjoy much less Rome in it's Pomp and Pride could never shew Men of that bulk of Wealth in England flow And every Cottager lives frank and free As Jove Here 's a perpetual Jubilee Hear one great truth an English Poet Sings We have one Emperour and a Million Kings To the KING Celestial Prince descended from above With Goodness and the Wisdom of great Jove Hovring the Doves with thy Seraphick Wings Still Shielding Church and State from Serpents Stings Accept the Addresses of our Humble praise 'T is all the Incense Men to God can praise When Civil War three Kingdoms did inthrall You were the Saviour that Redeem'd us all And rais'd miraculously from their Graves Three Soul-sunk Nations that were Slaves to Slaves Mean Thanks do mighty favours quite disgrace But dull Ingratitude becomes the base How Justly may'st thou let thy Thunder fly Both Gyants and Pigmies doom'd to die What will they War with Jove in vain in vain Whom th' Gods have Crown'd in spighr of Worms shall Reign Repent proud Dust before it be too late Strike Sail my Muse shall be your Advocate Hear great Apollo Phoebus lend thine ear To an unpolisht Muses humble Prayer She lifts no Phaetontick Palm on high Lo her request is veil'd with modesty Thou that art goodness Essence Thou that keeps Clemency waking that she never sleeps Look on the Errours of Mortality With the Kind Aspect of your God-like Eye Though they have sin'd and certainly a Sin To death had it against a bad Prince been And their Transgressions in an high degree Are aggravated to sin thus against Thee My poor Muse begs although their Sins be great That Thou wouldst not Forget to forget To the DUKE And Thou Great Hero of loud Flames first rate Still partner of your Royal Brothers Fate Who baffle Mischief and her Dart despise And stand the firmer for her Batteries VVhilst Envy toyls her self quite out of breath You undisturb'd can smile the Wretch to death Malice is now in a Consumption grown To see her self mistook in You alone Still the more venom that You on they throw Still You the Taller and more Lovely grow Can walk the Fiery Furnace and no Hair Sing'd no smell of Fire no impair Fond men To hope they can destroy whom Jove Preserves by Wonders and peculiar Love VVell may they droop their Heads and Necks incline As Tulips Frost-bit with a Northern wind To Prudence still and Piety you 'r Just And will forgive whom none will wish to trust To the LORDS You of the Constellation that maintain Your Starry Glories from Apostate Stain You whose chast Loyaly for ever stream'd To th' Royal Lamp of Honour whence You beam'd You shall for ever share the Muses Praise VVhilst Helicon hath Drops Apollo Bays To the GENTRY Come Brothers of the Minor Stars that are No wandring Planets but fixt in Your Sphere You that hvea vow'd to be so true To Charles that to your selves you be so And sure I am your Oath will not be broke You 'l bow to Destiny before the Yoke VVe must not praise nor thank our selves that 's vain That were but Champarty You know in grain But we 'l so Loyal and so Faithful live That Church and Crown 's Fees us no thanks shall give To the Common Councel Court of Aldermen And You brave Citizens so Rich and wise The Boons of Heaven due to Loyalties Heaven marks them who from Allegiance stray VVith Children Wits or Fortunes quite awry You that hold th' Rains curb the head strong Jaws Of Asses kickt at Governours and Laws You know That Trade doth still most profit bring To them are true to God and to their King Long may you live and may the Town and Court Be happy in the prayers of my poor heart May no King want such Citizens I pray Nor Townsmen Prince like him they now enjoy Livery-men But You that are now of th' new Livery And Old Leven look for no thanks from me Keep to your Gods On damned Bradshaw call Implore the shades of Ireton and Noll To come improv'd from Hell and be so good To set crackt men with Plunder up and Bloud The Rabble shall no longer rule this Town Rebellions Charter now must go down down But yet we 'l beg the King that he would please To give another on good terms as these Countreys o're grown with Beasts of Rapine be Ty'd to destroy the common Enemy And bound by Charter yearly to afford So many Fox or Wolf-skins to the Lord London once bounded in Walls is now boundless Grown from a City to a Wilderness More and worse vermin lurk in 't's Holes and Dens Than Wolves in Tory-Land or Frogs in Fens If they renew their Charter may they pay A Rebels head for Quit-rent every day And a Whores Liver till the Town be found Honest and like the Loyal Countrey sound Now we have done we have not done what 's there See how the Mutinous women appear Nip Insurrections in the bud Drums beat A parl and let us with the Females treat VVhat would the good wives have Forbear slaughter Then quoth the Amazons we 'l keep our Charter And thus pleads first a Mouse-trap-makers VVife Before we 'l loose our Honour we 'l loose Life Honour than Food or Rayment priz'd more high For It we 'l live and for It we will die Farewel Charter Farewel Gentility Next comes a bouncing Butchers Wife i' th' Van VVith a Cow-killing Pole-ax in her Hand D'y ' think we 'l loose our Charter And be stil'd â—ro As Fish-women be in Bore-Land and well so Master Punch Kills an Ox and Twenty Sheep Each week i' th' year and I the Stall do keep Shall all this Bloud besides a Freemans Wife Now loose it's Honour By my Butchers life For our Noble Charter we will stand and fall For if we loose our Arms we then loose all Then spoke a Chandlers Wife with Ale-stuft-Lungs As big as Tun foaming at all her Bungs D' ye think I 'le sit at Bar all day for th' Fees I get by Porters Penny Bread and Cheese And see the Slaves like Clowns in Sussex come And cry Dame where is your Husband at home Shall double Drink place to Feeling so give Shall 't be Madam Creswell and not Mis Keeling Quoth Mistress Fough 't would be a stinking life If I were not Master Gold-Finders Wife If farewel Charter farewel to all The Nobility of Pin-makers-Hall Stand to your Arms both Life and Limb shall go To save our Honour and our Charter too A Reverend Matron in whose Loyal Face VVas every touch of Modesty and Grace Hearing their Grievances ventur'd the Crowd And thus she spake and thus their Ears they bow'd ' Dear Sisters of the Livery appease ' The boisterous bellows of your passions cease ' You know that oftentimes untimely fears ' Unform the Men and them transform to Hares ' And Jealousy's our Sexes cursed Spell ' Transforms us Angels to the Hags of Hell The last old Charter which you so deplore VVas granted to us in the days of Yore And many an odde thing was in 't 't was done VVhen th' Land with Popery was over-run And now by Law 't is so repugnant found That th' Law it self is in that Charter drown'd But there 's another in the Mint for you According to your hearts desire New New Not after the old Superstitious Fashion But New according to the Reformation For we that were but Mistresses before Shall now be Masters Lords and something more Moreover 't is provided all the Geese In London shall have two Ganders apiece Double man'd And if that be not Satis You shall have your Boys on Sundays Gratis This said they shout and made the Welkin ring Cry'd Damn th' old Charter and God save the KING FINIS