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law_n king_n kingdom_n people_n 18,543 5 5.1521 4 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A41747 Grampius congratulation in plain Scots language to His Majesties thrise happy return 1660 (1660) Wing G1482; ESTC R219880 1,747 8

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GRAMPIUS CONGRATULATION In plain SCOTS LANGUAGE TO HIS MAJESTIES Thrise Happy Return Printed Anno Dom. 1660. GRAMPIUS CONGRATULATION To His Majesties thrise happy Return A SCOTS Rime OF twelve sad years one tedious night We'ave had and now the day grows light Our Sun is up awake my Muse Thy drousinesse I 'le not excuse We have been dead and now we live Again and shall we no thanks give In our next life if we give none To God Why Resurrection Are we redeem'd then from the tears And torments of these twenty years And from th' Egyptian bondage free And are we all past the Red sea And shall not one midst all this Throng Remember upon Moses Song Let this be Purim to our Priests Although our Church allow no Fiests But Bacchus She priests here we bar Our mirth with fury we 'll not mar Let them their Trietericks vent To a Triennial Parliament And since profane men are discharg'd By him for whose cause we 're enlarg'd Ranting ' gainst the dead Commonwealth Or drinking their own Masters health Whom they so by their rude louse tongue More than their hands could help did wrong What shall we poor we do that dwell By Chyrra and Agamppe well What if we mirrie made by water Mingled with Enthean fire shall clatter No Treason 's here our noise and din. Shall greater be far than our sin Were we not then all this past while Cimmerians since our Kings exile Have we not liv'd in Holes and Caves And dig'd in Minerals like slaves To pay th' usurpers of the Crown And buy Swords t' had our Selves down But now since Jove amongst us Feists Like th' honest Corybantes Priests Let 's Leap and Daunce all in a round Our Heads shake and our Cymbals sound Till the French follow this our folly Who pitied not our Melancholy With God our King a God we 'll call More 's in Him than our Armies all They brought us Toil and Husks for diet He Milk and Hony with much quiet When we by War our Peace did mar Then Nole sought Peace by ' nlawful War Pa● quaeri●●●●ello But still behov'd he to keep 's under And we must Pay or he must Plunder Five several times the Scots made head To make amends for one misdead Five times our Fire still turn'd to smoak And all the Kingdoms bore the yoak But what was in this wondrous thing Strong Armies could not help the King Nor rescue from Hells yauning jawes Religion Liberty and Lawes Was 't not because still Achan's wedge Was by some of us kept in pledge And the cursd thing was never purg'd So the poor People ay were scourg d. And with the truth if we may jump Our Scots House sometimes had its Rump And likewise a fanatick blood Made some heads think that ill was good But now that brain-sicknesse great odds Is turn'd down to an Emerauds So if our Royal Doctor please To obviat the like disease Let us be purg'd and Leeches set While th' ill is at our Postern gate Lest it break back again and breed Some new distemper to the head The body of the Land like men Condemn'd and then repriv'd again By the griev'd Party taste some grief Mixt with the joy of their relief And were it not this weight did still us The extasie of joy would kill us We grieve our interprises miss'd The successe which our Souls had wish'd That our efforts made to repone The King had thus fail'd one by one VVhen the Restorer from us went He knew this by our hearts consent In offers free And yet we wring Our hands that our selves did not bring The King home But since he 's home brought Theirs be the Guerdon vvho best vvrought Whither we take the work from Heaven Or adde it to the wonders seaven Or learn that England never vvould Take King nor Reformation hold Of us Let us be well content T' applaud unto the Instrument George whom ill los'd we all confesse By providence was nothing lesse He serv'd in Egypt so it fell He proves the prope of Israel He is our David and he took But five small sling-stones from the brook And with the G'ants own sword indeed He hath cut off Goliah's head His Club hath made more Monsters fall Than Hercules his Labours all He hath the Hydra's heads down born And gives us Achelous horn Of Philistines a greater crew A' has quash'd than ever Samson slew His finger hath drawn down their house And yet both sav'd himself and us Thrasibulus he hath excel'd Though thirty Tyrants he expel'd And this act shall Eclipse the Glory Of old Saint George his Legend Story As far 's the King's and Kingdoms three Outvies a poor Maids jeopardie And of all those though brave and good Not one like this was done but blood Then to Heaven's let us praises sing Thank George and Pray God Save the King FINIS