 | A royal arbor (1663) |  |
The Change: After the Death of Oliver, November 3. 1659.
The Air compos'd by Mr. Lock.
1
To what Idol nowMust our hallowed ham-strings bow?
The devil and we
Can never agree,
We know not to who or how;
Religion and Laws
Are crucified by his paws,
Our liberty
Is routed truly,
And so is the good old Cause:
20
Hath bid us good night,
'Tis Power is the onely Prevailer;
We dare not be known
To ask for our own,
For fear of Gibbet and Goaler:
For King we went
And Parliament,
By gunning to get them together;
But now well a day!
They are gunn'd quite away,
And we must be govern'd by neither.
2
Old Noll's Noddle nowWere he living would tell us how
The Camp and Crown,
The Gun and the Gown
Might quickly make one of two;
King Dick the third,
Or Harry with his broad sword,
(Though men amiss)
Had taught us e're this
To quarrel about a word:
Their Launce and Laws
Had cudgell'd our Cause,
And made us submit to their Empire;
But Richard the fourth,
And Harry the ninth
Are men of genteeler temper:
21
Are governed by Fate,
'Tis Power hath the Peoples applauses;
Our Courts are too tall,
Our Lawyers must fall,
The Sword's the best splitter of Causes.
3
'Tis not MajestyDid make us to disagree,
'Twas an humble fire
Blown up by desire,
To be but as high as he;
The Prelate and King,
Who caused our quarrelling,
Were much to blame,
We hated the Name,
But fain we would have the thing:
Our Drum, our Gun,
Our Copper and Tun,
Which newly of so much renown is,
Can fitly declare
What spirits we are,
And what a bright Idol a Crown is:
But now let's cast
What's left us at last
By Presbyter and Independent;
The People's foresworn,
The Land is forlorn,
And this is the blessed end on't.
| A royal arbor (1663) | |