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[Blest Englands joy (the King) will come e're long.]

Blest Englands joy (the King) will come e're long.
Praise God, make Bonefires, swing the Bells, ding dong.
And let him never beare a Christians name,
Whose trade and pleasure is in blood and flame
Of his deare Countrey, and rip, rend, and teare
His Mothers Womb, that such a brat did beare.