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On King CHARLES, by the Earl of Rochester,
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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181

On King CHARLES, by the Earl of Rochester,

For which he was banish'd the Court and turn'd Mountebank.

In the Isle of Great Britain long since famous known,
For breeding the best C--- in Christendom;
There Reigns, and long may he Reign and thrive,
The easiest Prince and best bred Man alive:
Him no ambition moves to seek Renown,
Like the French Fool, to wander up and down,
Starving his Subjects, hazarding his Crown.
Nor are his high desires above his Strength,
His Scepter and his P--- are of a Length,
And she that plays with one may sway the other,
And make him little wiser than his Brother.
I hate all Monarchs and the Thrones that they sit on,
From the Hector of France to the Cully of Brittain.
Poor Prince, thy P--- like the Buffoons at Court,
It governs thee because it makes thee sport;
Tho' Safety, Law, Religion, Life lay on't,
'Twill break through all to make it's way to C---.
Restless he rolls about from Whore to Whore,
A merry Monarch, scandalous and poor.
To Carewell the most dear of all thy Dears,
The sure relief of thy declining Years;
Oft he bewails his fortune and her fate,
To love so well, and to be lov'd so late;
For when in her he settles well his T---
Yet his dull graceless Buttocks hang an Arse.
This you'd believe, had I but time to tell you,
The pain it costs to poor laborious Nelly,
While she employs Hands, Fingers, Lips and Thighs,
E'er she can raise the Member she enjoys.