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The History of Insipids;
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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The History of Insipids;

A Lampoon, 1676.

[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

By the Lord Roch---r.

1

Chaste, pious, prudent, C--- the Second,
The Miracle of thy Restoration,
May like to that of Quails be reckon'd
Rain'd on the Israelitick Nation;

158

The wisht for Blessing from Heav'n sent,
Became their Curse and Punishment.

2

The Vertues in thee, C--- inherent,
Although thy Countenance be an odd-piece,
Proves thee as true a God's Vicegerent
As e're was Harry with the Codpiece:
For Chastity and pious Deeds,
His Grandsire Harry, C--- exceeds.

3

Our Romish Bondage-breaker Harry,
Espoused half a dozen Wives;
C--- onely one resolv'd to marry,
And other Mens he never—
Yet hath he Sons and Daughters more,
Than e're had Harry by threescore.

4

Never was such a Faiths Defender,
He like a politick Prince, and pious,
Gives liberty to Conscience tender,
And doth to no Religion tye us.
Jews, Turks, Christians, Papists, he'll please us,
With Moses, Mahomet, or J---

5

In all Affairs of Church or State,
He very zealous is, and able,
Devout at Prayers, and sits up late
At the Caball and Council-Table;
His very Dog at Council-Board,
Sits grave and wise as any Lord.

6

Let C--- his Policy no man flout,
The wisest Kings have all some Folly;
Nor let his Piety any doubt;
J--- like a Sovereign wise and holy,

159

Make young men Judges of the Bench,
And B--- some that love a Wench.

7

His Father's Foes he doth reward,
Preserving those that cut off's Head:
Old Cavaliers the Crown's best Guard,
He lets them starve for want of Bread.
Never was any King endow'd
With so much Grace and Gratitude.

8

Blood that wears Treason in his Face,
Villain compleat, in Parson's Gown,
How much is he at, Court in Grace
For stealing Ormond and the Crown?
Since Loyalty does no Man good,
Let's steal the King and out-do Blood.

9

A Parliament of Knaves and Sots,
Members by name, you must not mention,
He keeps in Pay, and buys their Votes,
Here with a Place, there with a Pension.
When to give Money he can't cologue 'um,
He doth with Scorn prorogue, prorogue 'um.

10

But they long since by too much giving,
Undid, betray'd, and sold the Nation;
Making their Memberships a Living,
Better than e'er was Sequestration.
God give thee C--- a Resolution
To damn the Knaves by Dissolution.

11

Fame is not grounded on Success,
Though Victories were Cæsar's Glory;
Lost Battels make not Pompey less,
But left them stiled great in Story.
Malitious Fate doth oft devise
To beat the Brave and fool the Wise.

160

12

C--- in the first Dutch War stood fair
To have been Sovereign of the Deep;
When Opdam blew up in the Air,
Had not his Highness gone to sleep.
Our Fleet slack'd Sails, fearing his waking,
The Dutch else had been in sad taking.

13

The Bergen Business was well laid,
Though we paid dear for that Design:
Had we not three days parling staid,
The Dutch Fleet there, C--- had been thine.
Though the false Dane agree'd to sell 'um,
He cheated us, and saved Skellum.

14

Had not C--- sweetly choos'd the States,
By Bergen baffle grown more wise,
And made them Shit as small as Rats,
By their rich Smyrna Fleets Surprize.
Had haughty Holms but call'd in Spragg,
Hans had been put into a Bag.

15

Mists, Storms, short Victuals, adverse Winds,
And once the Navies wise Division,
Defeated C--- his best designs,
Till he became his Foes Derision.
But he had swing'd the Dutch at Chattam,
Had he had Ships but to come at 'um.

16

Our Blackheath Host without dispute,
Rais'd, (put on Board, why, no man knows)
Must C--- have rendred absolute,
Over his Subjects or his Foes.
Has not the French King made us Fools,
By taking Maestricht with our Tools?

161

17

But C--- what could thy Policy be,
To run so many sad Disasters;
To join thy Fleet with false D' Etrees,
To make the French of Holland Masters?
Was't Carewell, Brother James, or Teague,
That made thee break the Triple League?

18

Could Robin Viner have foreseen
The glorious Triumphs of his Master,
The Wool-Church Statue Gold had been,
Which now is made of Alabaster:
But wise Men think had it been Wood,
'Twere for a Bankrupt K--- too good.

19

Those that the Fabrick well consider,
Do of it diversly discourse;
Some pass their Censure of the Rider,
Others their Judgment of the Horse:
Most say the Steed's a goodly thing,
But all agree 'tis a Lewd K---.

20

By the Lord Mayor and his grave Coxcombs,
Free-man of London C--- is made;
Then to Whitehall a Rich Gold Box comes,
Which was bestow'd on the French Jade.
But wonder not it should be so, Sirs,
When Monarchs rank themselves with Grocers.

21

Cringe, scrape, no more, ye City Fops,
Leave off your Feasting and fine Speeches,
Beat up your Drums, shut up your Shops,
The Courtiers then will kiss your Breeches.
Arm'd, tell the Popish Duke that rules,
You're Free-born Subjects, not French Mules.

162

22

New Upstarts, Pimps, Bastards, Whores,
That Locust-like devour the Land,
By shutting up th'Exchequer Doors,
When thither our Money was trapan'd,
Have rendred C--- his Restauration,
But a small Blessing to the Nation.

23

Then C--- beware of thy Brother Y---
Who to thy Government gives Law;
If once we fall to the old Sport,
You must again both to Breda:
Where spight of all that would restore you,
Grown wise by wrongs, we shall abhor you.

24

If of all Christian Blood the guilt
Cry loud for Vengeance unto Heaven;
That Sea by treacherous Lewis spilt,
Can never be by God forgiven.
Worse Scourge unto his Subjects, Lord,
Than Pestilence, Famine, Fire or Sword.

25

That false rapacious Wolf of France,
The Scourge of Europe, and its Curse,
Who at his Subjects cry, does dance,
And study how to make them worse.
To say such Kings, Lord, rule by thee,
Were most prodigious Blasphemy.

26

Such know no Law but their own Lust,
Their Subjects Substance, and their Blood,
They count it Tribute due and just,
Still spent and spilt for Subjects good.
If such Kings are by God appointed,
The D--- may be the L--- Anointed.

163

27

Such Kings curst be the Power and Name,
Let all the World henceforth abhor 'em;
Monsters which Knaves sacred proclaim,
And then like Slaves fall down before 'em.
What can there be in Kings Divine?
The most are Wolves, Goats, Sheep, or Swine.

28

Then farewell sacred Majesty,
Let's pull all Brutish Tyrants down;
When Men are born, and still live free,
Here ev'ry Head doth wear a Crown.
Mankind like miserable Frogs,
Prove wretched, King'd by Storks and Logs.