The CONDEMNATION OF VVHIG and TORY.
I am neither
Whignor
Tory,
But a Subject truly Loyal,
As you'll see by what's before yee;
Who still does pray for the Royal
C. R.
SIrs, What's the matter? 's all the World grown mad?
Or is't our Isle alone, that with this sad
Distemper is possess'd? Surely we,
Our Stately
Bedlam built by Prophesie:
To two Extreams we all do madly run;
And Moderation (which should heal us) shun.
Better it were, both th'
Tories and the
Whiggs,
Had spent their time in whipping Tops and Giggs,
Than thus disturb our Peace, make such a stir,
For and against a Popish Successor;
When God knows whether it be so or no;
Or if it be, can change him from a Foe
To our Religion, make him a Faithful Friend,
And Zealous Protestant before his End;
Or if we have not Faith enough to hope
For his Redemption from the
French and
Pope.
Yet God can us preserve from all our Fears,
By adding many more to
Charles his Years;
Who (Thanks to Heaven) yet does fill the Throne,
And may do (till
Rome's Downfall) if my own,
And other Prayers be heard, who daily cry
For Heavens Blessings on His Majesty;
For's long and happy Reign, and 'twould become
Others to do so, rather than beat the Drum,
And noise abroad their Fears, distract the Rout,
And kindle Flames they know not to put out;
Provoke His Majesty, and all because
They cannot have their Will o'th King and Laws;
And therefore rob him of his People's Hearts,
(It's Felony, I'll prov't whoever starts)
His Right to them's undoubted, they're his Store,
His Strength, his Wealth, who steals them, makes him poor.
Does wrong him more than he that takes your Purse
Wrongs you, or he that fairly steals your Horse.
But there are others whom I must not spare,
Who contribute (at least) as large a Share
To our Distractions, and while they pretend
To greater Loyalty than others, bend
Their Wits, their Actions, Pens, their Tongues and Lips,
The Splendor of our Sovereign to eclipse,
By crying up the High-born Prince, his Brother,
As if the World, nor we had such another,
When (Thanks to Heaven) we have the
Elder Brother.
Him they extol, of him all places ring,
They'l scarce allow's to cry
God save the King.
Drink but the King's Health, before 'tis half gone round,
Th' other must follow, and must all confound
That take it not, or they must drink, or die,
Or fly the place, or fight the Company.
Such their Devotion is to th' Rising Sun,
They cannot stay untill our day be done.
But hold, bold Wights, too forwardly you run,
Our Sun shines bright, and's little past its Noon;
We hope to bask still in his warmer Beams,
And when toward Evening he casts larger Streams,
To rest our selves under the quiet Shade,
His happy Government for us has made.
I hate to see him jostled from his Throne,
Or in it either, be't by more or one,
That seek to eclipse his Glory, drown his Name,
With the loud Noises of the growing Fame
Of
James the Second, a Prince whom I admire;
But still Great
Charles his Name must sound the higher.
It grieves and vexes too, sometime to a Rage,
To hear him treated, as going off the Stage,
As if his Work were o're, his Race were run,
And only gaz'd at, as the Setting Sun.
And though he's sprightly, strong, sound, brisk and brave,
Yet they'll needs have it, he's one Foot i'th Grave.
All to call off the People's Hearts and Eyes,
From him to th' Sun they look should next arise.
But Heaven will disappoint their Hopes, I trust,
By blessing
Charles with a Long Reign and Just,
Removing Jealousies and causless Fears,
Both from his Commons and his Loyal Peers,
Creating mutual Confidence in both,
The want of which has caus'd (I'm very loath
To say) how many Mischiefs, and how great
I'd rather try to find out a Receipt,
To cure our Ills, they're only to repeat.
The while the World stands we can ne'er expect,
From a prevailing Party, Faction, Sect;
But from an Union of
True Protestants,
(And Oh, 'tis that our Kingdom Chiefly wants)
And a right Understanding 'twixt our King,
And all his Faithful Subjects, who do bring
Hearts full of Loyalty, and Zeal to serve
Him, and their Country, and both to preserve.
And when he calls, may he a Parliament
As ready find, to own confess, repent
Th' unkindnes, rashness of some Votes that past
The lower House: As forward yet at last
To treat their Royal Sovereign with all true
Reverence and Obedience which is due
To Sacred Majesty; t' accept, embrace
His Royal Offers (made with so much Grace)
To joyn with them in whatsoever shall
Be thought effectual to secure us all,
Against, alas, our too just Fears of
Rome,
Both at the present, and for time to come.
(One thing excepted only) and let't still
Excepted be for me, while those that will
Approve themselves good Patriots, do betake
Themselves to find Expedients, or to make
Such into Acts, as by his Majesty,
In a late Speech was laid before their Eye,
As means effectual thought, for to restrain
Papists and Popery breaking in again.
But let not be forgot then due Supplies,
T' enable him to succor his Allies.
(Who must a Prey be to th' devouring Bands
Of the proud
French, 'less rescu'd by his Hands;)
And to restore the Grandeur of his Court,
Enable him to relieve those resort
To him for Shelter, who do hither fly,
To shun the Cruelties of Popery.
To maintain his Right, and Honor of the Seas,
Curb the Insulting Pirates that dis-ease
And plague our Merchants ev'n as they please.
Nay, let him know when you've been very kind,
The rest, in's Peoples Purses that's behind,
'S ready at's Call, to defend him and's Isles,
From
French, Turk, Pope, Papists, and all their Wiles,
That Popery ne'er enter here agen,
And let the People cry
Amen, Amen.
FINIS.
LONDON, Printed for R. W. in the Year, 1681.