 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
The Prodigal.
The Prodigal's return'd from Husks and Swine,
Such was the first, and so, great Ch**es, is thine;
Who to his Sov'reign's Favour did aspire,
From's wall'wing in the Town, and Wapping Mire.
The fatted Calf, this for a Convert slew;
But e'er this Prodigal does prove so too,
Oats shall turn honest, Armstrong shall prove true.
The House then sign'd his Pardon: Death attends,
Seal'd to ten thousand of thy dearest Friends.
Swoln Asps and Adders on his Tongue do nest,
E'er long thou'lt find 'em crawl into thy Breast:
And that sly Snake which stung thy Brother's Heel,
Him gnawing next within thy Heart thoul't feel.
Thy Counsellors shall fall, thy Judges bleed,
And Jefferys, doom'd before, shall now be flea'd
By the num'rous Croud, and Monmouth at the Head.
These were the noble Acts proclaim'd him Great,
At every Hedg-Cabal, and City-Treat.
Well he deserves it: Let him be prefer'd
The Captain of your Horse, and of your Guard.
And he who 'gainst your Life with Knaves conspir'd,
Be for your better Angel now admir'd.
Such was the first, and so, great Ch**es, is thine;
Who to his Sov'reign's Favour did aspire,
From's wall'wing in the Town, and Wapping Mire.
The fatted Calf, this for a Convert slew;
But e'er this Prodigal does prove so too,
Oats shall turn honest, Armstrong shall prove true.
The House then sign'd his Pardon: Death attends,
Seal'd to ten thousand of thy dearest Friends.
Swoln Asps and Adders on his Tongue do nest,
E'er long thou'lt find 'em crawl into thy Breast:
And that sly Snake which stung thy Brother's Heel,
Him gnawing next within thy Heart thoul't feel.
Thy Counsellors shall fall, thy Judges bleed,
And Jefferys, doom'd before, shall now be flea'd
By the num'rous Croud, and Monmouth at the Head.
These were the noble Acts proclaim'd him Great,
At every Hedg-Cabal, and City-Treat.
117
The Captain of your Horse, and of your Guard.
And he who 'gainst your Life with Knaves conspir'd,
Be for your better Angel now admir'd.
You once proclaim'd him Traytor! where's the Reason
If Traytors meet not the Reward of Treason?
What Fondness to a Prodigal lost Fool,
Should both your Justice and the Laws o'er-rule?
Declare what mighty Wonders he has done,
That of a Rebel you adopt a Son.
What signal Service has deserv'd this Grace?
What Narratives, what Legends ring his Praise?
This would to th'astonish'd World make some amends,
Tho he declare the contrary to his Friends.
You tell of Wonders that he did confess:
Tell us what 'tis, we'll pay you in Address.
Address upon Address deserves one more,
And damn the Plot, and let the Whigs adore.
Then honest Men shall be in Plots insnar'd,
And Rumbold's Blunderbuss shall be your Guard.
You generously told us once before,
He was the Son of an anointed Whore.
This Truth you once were willing to declare,
And will you now exalt him in the Chair?
Make him your Son, he'll make himself your Heir.
This will record how fit you are to rule,
Great, good, wise Charles, out-banter'd by a Fool.
If Traytors meet not the Reward of Treason?
What Fondness to a Prodigal lost Fool,
Should both your Justice and the Laws o'er-rule?
Declare what mighty Wonders he has done,
That of a Rebel you adopt a Son.
What signal Service has deserv'd this Grace?
What Narratives, what Legends ring his Praise?
This would to th'astonish'd World make some amends,
Tho he declare the contrary to his Friends.
You tell of Wonders that he did confess:
Tell us what 'tis, we'll pay you in Address.
Address upon Address deserves one more,
And damn the Plot, and let the Whigs adore.
Then honest Men shall be in Plots insnar'd,
And Rumbold's Blunderbuss shall be your Guard.
You generously told us once before,
He was the Son of an anointed Whore.
This Truth you once were willing to declare,
And will you now exalt him in the Chair?
Make him your Son, he'll make himself your Heir.
This will record how fit you are to rule,
Great, good, wise Charles, out-banter'd by a Fool.
And what's become of all the Noise and Pother
Of Justice, Conscience, and our dearest Brother;
Of all the Loyal Youths his Int'rest own'd,
If Heirs must be depos'd, and Rebels crown'd?
Of Justice, Conscience, and our dearest Brother;
Of all the Loyal Youths his Int'rest own'd,
If Heirs must be depos'd, and Rebels crown'd?
Augustus Treasons lov'd, and so do you;
Will you with Julius hug the Traytor too?
Once was he such, pray Heav'n he be'nt so still;
Where Mischief's nurs'd to do some glorious Ill,
Give him the Pow'r, he'll never want the Will.
Will you with Julius hug the Traytor too?
Once was he such, pray Heav'n he be'nt so still;
Where Mischief's nurs'd to do some glorious Ill,
Give him the Pow'r, he'll never want the Will.
118
Sooner expect the Tyger will be tam'd,
Than once a Traytor ever be reclaim'd.
Than once a Traytor ever be reclaim'd.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |