Dolor, ac Voluptas, invicem cedunt. OR ENGLANDS Glorious Change, by Calling Home of KING CHARLES THE SECOND. Together with the Royalists Exaltation▪ And the Phanatiques Diminution.
COme Muse; did'st ever joy in recreating,
And solace of thy self in nominating
Dangers expel'd; When in a calm of
Peace,
Thou resting ly'st, as in a Bed at ease.
Did'st ever hear that
War was sought of any
Unless by those which (as their Trade) kept many
Sluggards, and such, who nothing had to leese,
Except it were their Cloaths, their Lice, and Fleas.
Peace ea
[...]nt for such, then soon absent your selves,
It is a Rock that must destroy these Elves;
They hang their heads, yet dare not seem to cry,
At this their unexpected misery.
They know that if they vissibly do frown,
There is a rod will whip their Stomacks down.
Our worthy General, whose eccho'd fame,
Shall sing aloud great Trophies of his name.
'Twas he that came here as a Favourite,
VVho seemingly did own the Rumpers right,
Not through his fear, 'twas through his policy,
To period the Kingdomes misery,
Not by a bloody fight, there need no more,
Such massacring as we have had before.
Such waste of blood in stopping of that flame,
Which through the fire of Swords had rais'd the same.
Go Lobsters hide your selves within the deep,
That is the fittest place for you to creep.
Shew not your heads Phanatiques, our intent,
Is for to serve the King and Parliament.
You as the wicked weeds amongst good Corn,
Shall by your deepest Roots from thence be torn;
You Coblers, Plough-men, which thought it no crime,
With others means, to make your selves sublime.
Know wee've a King a comming (long Exil'd)
To punish you, but oh he's farr to milde:
He dont delight his name abroad to spread,
Or make his Foes by Rigour his name dread:
He's mercifull, firm in his undertaking,
His old, and trusty Friends, in not forsaking,
Pittifull unto such who have deserv'd
His angry Brow, and from his Cause have swerv'd;
But woe to you, new Lords, your first degree,
Had been a Thousand times more fit for yee.
And you Poor Royalists, which were a prey,
Unto those VVolves, and long time obscure lay,
Advance your selves, lift up your heads on high,
Your Shepheards looks, will make the VVolves to fly
Your long expected
CHARLES is comming home,
Never such joy ere came to Christendome.
Our Nation like a Ship e'ne over blown,
Our Laws, Lives, Liberties, e'ne over thrown,
Our Churches jeer'd, our Ministers dispis'd,
Nothing for Christianity is priz'd;
But what's allowed, by the Quaking Dogs,
Who were in swarms, resembling Egypts Frogs.
Till God beholding us, did pitty take,
Destroying them, even for his Gospels sake;
And for a
MOSES, he a
MONK did send,
Who with his rod, did us from them defend.
Then let us not ascribe this unto Fate,
Or unto Chance, as being fortunate;
But unto th'Almighty God, who did portend
These blessings for us, give praise to—
THE END.
T. W.
LONDON, Printed in the year 1660.