 | A royal arbor (1663) |  |
The Royal Rant:
A Medley in Oliver's time.
[1.]
Barre-boy cease to roar,We shall quaff no more,
When we think upon the dayes
Of Love and Musick, Loyalty and Playes;
When Law and Reason
Were not high Treason,
'Twas a good season than;
E're Parliaments
Brought these events,
'Twas fame enough to be an Englishman:
But Legislators,
And Regis-haters
Have brought such slaughters since;
The Gentry
In prisons lye,
And finde it crime enough to be a Prince.
68
2.
In a dungeon deep we lye,Crampt with cold Captivity,
Where the bedless bottom owns
Nothing to relieve our bones;
Yet such is the sacred scope of the soul,
That we never think
Of the stink,
When cold water we drink,
For Conscience crowns the bowl.
3.
Thus the ship of Reformation,That was lately lancht in blood,
Floats in flouds of lamentation;
Let us now behold the wood,
Where the Royal Oak once growing,
Made it a perpetual spring;
There sedition now is sowing,
Hark what Philomel doth sing.
4.
The Nightingale so quick,Is now grown sick, sick, sick,
To see the Royal vocal Wood,
So bonny and good, good good,
Where each bonny Bird did meet
With concord sweet, sweet sweet,
Is defil'd by Rebels, where they hug
Their Leaguer Lady,
Jug jug, jug jug jug jug jug jug jug.
69
5.
Thus you see how tydes are turning,No condition's lasting,
In a moment mirth and mourning,
Blowing buds are blasting;
Fortune is
A coy Mistris,
No man ever kept her;
She'l (by power)
In an hour
Make a Sword a Scepter.
6.
Yet let us wait upon her wheel,And not with fury fret her;
For she that turn'd from well to ill,
May turn from bad to better.
7
Therefore Barre-boy roar agen,We will drink like Englishmen,
For every Pottle bring up ten;
I hope this is no Treason:
He that is
In a Land like this,
Must lay aside his Reason.
8.
Then let us drink a Health to his fame,Who for our tongues we dare not name,
Who for a Throne we dare not own;
But wee'll devise a curse likewise
Upon the State-Hector, the People's Pro-jector,
70
Drawer! Bring up your Wine, and fill up your Pots,
For we are the Men that have no Plots.
| A royal arbor (1663) | |