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169

A Caution to King Charles the Second from Forty One.

Hold fast thy Sword and Scepter, Charles,
Sad times are coming on,
The murm'ring of thy Senate House
Smells rank of Forty One.
When Kings are call'd to give Account
What their Expences be,
It is a sign we all are Kings,
Or that no King shall be.
Give way but to their Will a while,
And you will find as great
A Will in them to act anew,
From Forty One to Eight.
Hold cruel England, hold; in thee
Sure all Rebellion springs,
Consider but thy Infamy
To kill the best of Kings.
The World against thee will exclaim,
Thy Cruelty abhor,
That thus delights in killing Kings
And raising Civil War.