The Royal Conquest, OR, The Happy Success against a Potent Enemy.
As it was Sung in the Prophetess at the Queens Theatre.

To a New Play-House Tune. [...]

Licensed according to Order.

1.
LEt the Souldiers rejoyce,
With a general Voice,
And the Senate new Honours decree 'em;
Who at his Armys head,
Struck the fell Monster dead,
And so boldly, so boldly, and bravely did fr [...]e 'em.
2.
To Mars let 'em raise,
And their Emperor's praise,
A Trophy of the Armys own making:
To Maximinian too,
Some Honours are due,
Who joyned, who joyned in the brave Underta­king.
3.
With Flowers let them strow
The way as they go,
Their Statues with Garlands adorning;
Who from tyrannies night,
Drave the Mists in their sight,
And gave them, and gave them a glorious Mor­ning
4.
Let all Glory and State
On his Royalty wait,
Great William the true Faiths defender;
Wheresoever he goes,
Still he conquers his Foes,
Mighty Cities and Castles to him does surrender.
5.
Let the Catholicks frown,
While their Cause tumbles down,
It is not proud France can restore 'em,
Our great Monarch of fame
Will his Enemies tame,
For his army, his army doth drive all before 'em.
6.
For they'll die ere they'll flinch,
Or give back an inch,
But fight under the Noble Banner,
Of that soveraign Lord,
VVhose Conquering sword,
Shall crown him, shall crown him with trophies of honour
7.
Boys be Loyal to him,
Fill the bowl to the brim,
Heavens bless him from secret Malice,
Let the sweet trumpets sound,
As the Bumpers go round,
Likewise wish him, lads, wish him, safe home to his Pallace.
8.
As he sails to the shore,
Let the loud Cannons roar
Like the Claps of invincible thunder,
Our joys to express,
For his Royal success,
Having fill'd the whole Kingdom, the Kingdom with wonder.
9.
For the Protestants they,
who in close Prisons lay,
Are Releas'd by his Conquering Power,
when the French bloody Crew
He did rarely subdue,
VVho was forc'd in Confusion to scamper and scowre
10.
Let the bells ring for joy,
VVhile the French we destroy,
And make the poor tories run nimble,
And in time we'll advance
To the Kingdom of France,
where we'll make the proud insolent Tyrant to tremble.

Printed for Charles Bates at the Sun and Bible in Pye-Corner.

[...]
[...]
[...]

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this EEBO-TCP Phase II text, in whole or in part.