Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A52770
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The true character of a rigid Presbyter with a narrative of the dangerous designes of the English and Scotish covenanters as they have tended to the ruine of our Church and Kingdom : also the articles of their dogmatic faith and the inconsistency thereof with monarchy : to which is added a short history of the English rebellion / compiled in verse by Marchamont Nedham; and formerly extant in his Mercurius pragmaticus.
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Nedham, Marchamont, 1620-1678.
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1661
(1661)
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Wing N406; ESTC R29555
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36,798
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96
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Wight Gape gape for Peace poor Countrymen The Members mean to treat And we shall see fair play agen When they no more can cheat The King shall come to Westminster It may be to his Grave Or of a glorious Prince must there Be made a Royal Slave But 't were more wise to let him reign Out of his Peoples sight For fear he should bring Peace again And put them in a fright Sure Martin lay in of a Clap And Say himself did dote The Devil too wore a sick Cap When th' Houses past this Vote Come let us live and laugh away The follies of this age Treason breeds care we 'll sing and play Like birds within a cage Fetters are th' onely favors now The Houses give we see And since the King them wears I vow 'T were baseness to be free Then let us all our sorrows drown In Sack and merry Glee Ye Citizens of London-town What jolly Slaves are we For Common-prayer ye have Excise Free-quarter too is coming To pay you for your Mutinies Feasts Covenants and Drumming No Puritan no Popish Priest Nor Prot'stant now shall be Nor Law but to live as we list 'T is Heaven thus to be free Could Babylons great King now sit In Counsel with our Nation He were the onely man to sit Us with a Reformation The glorious Golden-Idol then Might shine in each Dominion Both Factions and their Brethren Would soon be one-opinion Away thou Pagan-Cavalier This God must not be thine But for the Saints at Westminster Whose souls are more divine Live drink and laugh our Worthies may And kindly take their fills The Subâ—ects must their reckonings pay The King must pass their Bills No Princes now but they the Crown Is vanisht with our Quiet Nor will they let us use our own Devotions and Diet. All Plums the Prophets sons desie And Spice-broths are too hot Treason's in a December-Pye And Death within the Pot. Christmas farewel thy day I fear And merry-days are done So they may keep Feasts all the year Our Saviour shall have none O happy Nation heretofore When Seas our Walls have been Unhappy now we see no shore But are all Sea within Factions like Billows rage and toss And Death mounts ev'ry Wave Yet in this Storm we are so cross We will no Pilot have Just such a Tempest seiz'd upon Blest Paul the Scripture says When he had seen no Sun nor Moon Nor Stars for many days Our Sun and Moon no beams create Our Stars disperst we see Such as was his will be our Fate We must all shipwrackt be A glorious Prince this Parliament The King should be did swear But now we understand they meant In Heaven and not here Let them invade the Throne and part His Crown and vote his Fate Yet know in each true Noble Heart He keeps his Chair of State Princes may be like other men Imprisoned and kept under A while as fire in clouds but then At length appear in Thunder And as in hidden Caves the wind Sad tremblings doth create So Monarchs by their own confin'd Cause Earthquakes in the State Farewel the Glory of our Land For now the Free-born Blades Our Lives and our Estates command And ride us all like Jades Faith and Religion bleeding lie And Liberty grows faint No Gospel but pure Treachery And Treason make the Saint Oh! 't is a heavenly Cause I trow Which first baptiz'd the Round-head In Noble Stafford's Blood but now Must on the Kings be founded Yet know that Kings are Gods on earth And those which pull them down Shall find it is no less then Death To tamper with a Crown 'T is true as Harry Martin said The Scots away must pack The Cov'nant shall a side be laid Like an Old Almanack Come then and buy my New true New New Almanack most true Such Accidents of State to shew The like no Age ere knew Since that we lost our King and Laws Since Jealousies and Fears Since Peace pure Truth and this Poul Cause It is full seven years Poor Charles pursu'd in Forty one Unking'd in Forty seven The Eighth will place him on his Throne In Earth or else in Heaven Three Kingdoms brought to a fine pass Whilst that our Saviours Rule The Country is become an Ass The City but a Mule Each University now pines The Church may hang and rot They banish all our true Divines The Lawyers too must trot Come Sirs more Sacks unto the Mill More Taxes more Free-quarter 'T is fit our Laws be your bare Will And the Excise our Charter Godspeed the Plough plague Rooks and Crows And send us years more cheap For I am sure whoever sows The Houses mean to reap Money the Soul of Man and Wit But yet no Saint of mine While th' Houses vote and Synod sit Thou ne'er shalt want a Shrine Reforming is a dull Device Dreads nought but strife and rage Thou putt'st us into Paradice And bring'st the Golden Age. Thou art Religion God and all That we may call Divine Thy Temple is Westminster-Hall And all our Priests are thine Tush tell not us the way to Heav'a Thou juggling Clergy-Elf That sett ' if the world at six and sev'n Money is Heav'n it self Betwixt those Atheists feign'd of old And ours there is no odds For both this one opinion hold That Fear did first make Gods Hell now is thought an idle Dream To fright men from their Crimes Religion but a crafty Theam Made to Bug-bear the Times The Bible and great Babels Whore May both together burn For the Religious Fit is o'er Now they have serv'd their turn Onely one Text may scape their hands Since they have ta'en such pains To lay their Lords in Iron Bands And bind their Kings in Chains Copernicus thy learned skill We praise since we have found The truth for now doth Heav'n stand still Whilst that the Earth runs round See how the Wheel of Providence Back Old Confusion brings Cashires us once more of a Prince To plague's with Petty Kings They say the Saints all rule must take And others must have none Their Priviledge it is to make A Foot-stool of the Throne The Laws o' th' Land say Charles must reign And Conscience pleads his Cause But Conscience is a thing most vain Their Gospel eats up Laws Never such Rebels have been seen As since we led this Dance So we may feast let Prince and Queen Beg a-la-mode-de-France Let Conscience pine and cry 't is strange We 'll say 't is bravely done To make the King take in Exchange A Dungeon for a Throne Away with Justice Laws and Fear When men resolve to rise Brave Souls must scorn all Scruples where A Kingdom is the Prize Then let us what our Labours gain Enjoy and bless our Chance Like Kings let 's domineer and reign Thus a-la-mode-de-France King and no King was once a Play Or Fable on the Stage But see it is become this day The Moral of our Age. Newcastle was the first best Scoene Then