501:01,000[' ]| 501:01,000[' ]| 501:01,000[' ]| 501:01,000[' ]| 501:01,000[' ]| 501:01,000[' ]| 501:01,000[' ]| <1.> 501:01,001[A ]| The day is broke! Melpomene, begone; 501:01,002[A ]| Hag of my fancy, let me now alone; 501:01,003[A ]| Nightmare my soul no more; go take thy flight 501:01,004[A ]| Where traitors' ghosts keep an eternal night; 501:01,005[A ]| Flee to Mount Caucasus and bear thy part 501:01,006[A ]| With the black fowl that tears Prometheus' heart 501:01,007[A ]| For his bold sacrilege; go fetch the groans 501:01,008[A ]| Of defunct tyrants, with them croak thy tones. 501:01,009[A ]| Go see Alecto with her flaming whip, 501:01,010[A ]| How she firks Nol and makes old Bradshaw skip. 501:01,011[A ]| Go make thyself away ~~ thou shalt no more 501:01,012[A ]| Choke up my standish with the blood and gore 501:01,013[A ]| Of English tragedies: I now will choose 501:01,014[A ]| The merriest of the nine to be my Muse, 501:01,015[A ]| And come what will, I'll scribble once again. 501:01,016[A ]| The brutish sword hath cut the nobler vein 501:01,017[A ]| Of racy poetry; our small-drink times 501:01,018[A ]| Must be contented and take up with rhymes. 501:01,019[A ]| They're sorry toys from a poor Levite's pack, 501:01,020[A ]| Whose living and assessments drink no sack ~~ 501:01,021[A ]| The subject will excuse the verse, I trow; 501:01,022[A ]| The venison's fat, although the crust be dough. 501:01,000[' ]| <2.> 501:01,023[A ]| I he who whilom sat and sung in cage 501:01,024[A ]| My King's and country's ruin by the rage 501:01,025[A ]| Of a rebellious rout; who weeping saw 501:01,026[A ]| Three goodly kingdoms, drunk with fury, draw 501:01,027[A ]| And sheathe their swords, like three enraged brothers, 501:01,028[A ]| In one another's sides, ripping their mother's 501:01,029[A ]| Belly, and tearing out her bleeding heart; 501:01,030[A ]| Then, jealous that their father fain would part 501:01,031[A ]| Their bloody fray and let them fight no more, 501:01,032[A ]| Fell foul on him and slew him at his door; 501:01,033[A ]| I that have only dar'd to whisper verses, 501:01,034[A ]| And drop a tear by stealth on loyal hearses; 501:01,035[A ]| I that enraged at the times and Rump, 501:01,036[A ]| Had gnaw'd my goose-quill to the very stump, 501:01,037[A ]| And flung that in the fire, no more to write, 501:01,038[A ]| But to sit down poor Britain's Heraclite, 501:01,039[A ]| Now sing the triumphs of the men of war, 501:01,040[A ]| The glorious rays of the bright Northern Star, 501:01,041[A ]| Created for the nonce by Heav'n to bring 501:01,042[A ]| The wise men of three nations to their King. 501:01,043[A ]| Monck! the great Monck! that syllable outshines 501:01,044[A ]| Plantagenet's bright name or Constantine's. 501:01,045[A ]| 'Twas at his rising that our day begun; 501:01,046[A ]| Be he the morning star to Charles our sun. 501:01,047[A ]| He took rebellion rampant by the throat, 501:01,048[A ]| And made the canting Quaker change his note. 501:01,049[A ]| His hand it was that wrote (we saw no more) 501:01,050[A ]| 7Exit*tyrannus over Lambert's door. 501:01,051[A ]| Like to some subtle lightning, so his words 501:01,052[A ]| Dissolved in their scabbards rebels' swords. 501:01,053[A ]| He with success the sov'reign skill hath found 501:01,054[A ]| To dress the weapon and so heal the wound. 501:01,055[A ]| George and his boys, as spirits do, they say, 501:01,056[A ]| Only by walking scare our foes away. 501:01,000[' ]| <3.> 501:01,057[A ]| Old Holofernes was no sooner laid 501:01,058[A ]| Before the idol's funeral pomp was paid 501:01,059[A ]| (Nor shall a penny e'er be paid for me: 501:01,060[A ]| Let fools that trusted his true mourners be), 501:01,061[A ]| Richard the Fourth just peeping out of squire 501:01,062[A ]| (No fault so much as the old one was his sire, 501:01,063[A ]| For men believ'd, though all went in his name, 501:01,064[A ]| He'd be but tenant till the landlord came), 501:01,065[A ]| When on a sudden, all amaz'd, we found 501:01,066[A ]| The seven years' Babel tumbl'd to the ground, 501:01,067[A ]| And he, poor heart, thanks to his cunning kin, 501:01,068[A ]| Was soon 7in*cuerpo honest Dick again. 501:01,069[A ]| Exit Protector. What comes next? I trow, 501:01,070[A ]| Let the state-huntsmen beat again. 501:01,070@w | "So ho!" 501:01,071[A ]| Cries Lambert, Master of the Hounds, 501:01,071@w | "Here sits 501:01,072@w | That lusty puss, the Good Old Cause, whose wits 501:01,073@w | Show'd Oliver such sport." 501:01,073@v | "That! that!" 501:01,073[A ]| cries Vane, 501:01,074@v | "Let's put her up, and run her once again! 501:01,075@v | She'll lead our dogs and followers up and down, 501:01,076@v | Whilst we match families and take the crown." 501:01,077[A ]| Enter the old Members. 'Twas the month of May 501:01,078[A ]| These maggots in the Rump began to play. 501:01,079[A ]| Wallingford anglers, though they stunk, yet thought 501:01,080[A ]| They would make baits by which fish might be caught, 501:01,081[A ]| And so it prov'd ~~ they soon by taxes made 501:01,082[A ]| More money than the Holland fishing-trade. 501:01,000[' ]| <4.> 501:01,083[A ]| Now broke in Egypt's plagues all in a day 501:01,084[A ]| And once more, worse than theirs. We must not pray 501:01,085[A ]| To be deliver'd ~~ their scabb'd folks were free 501:01,086[A ]| To scratch where it did itch ~~ so might not we. 501:01,087[A ]| That meteor Cromwell, though he scar'd, gave light, 501:01,088[A ]| But we were now cover'd with horrid night. 501:01,089[A ]| Our magistracy was, like Moses' rod, 501:01,090[A ]| Turn'd to a serpent by the angry God. 501:01,091[A ]| Poor citizens when trading would not do 501:01,092[A ]| Made brick without straw and were basted too. 501:01,093[A ]| Struck with the botch of taxes and excise, 501:01,094[A ]| Servants (our very dust) were turn'd to lice ~~ 501:01,095[A ]| It was but turning soldiers, and they need 501:01,096[A ]| Not work at all, but on their masters feed. 501:01,097[A ]| Strange caterpillars ate our pleasant things, 501:01,098[A ]| And frogs croak'd in the chambers of our kings; 501:01,099[A ]| Black-bloody veins did in the Rump prevail, 501:01,100[A ]| Like the Philistines' emrods in the tail. 501:01,101[A ]| Lightning, hail, fire, and thunder Egypt had, 501:01,102[A ]| And England guns, shot, powder (that's all bad). 501:01,103[A ]| And that sea-monster Lawson, if withstood, 501:01,104[A ]| Threaten'd to turn our rivers into blood; 501:01,105[A ]| And ~~ plague of all these plagues ~~ all these plagues fell 501:01,106[A ]| Not on an Egypt, but our Israel. 501:01,000[' ]| <5.> 501:01,107[A ]| Sick as her heart can hold the nation lies, 501:01,108[A ]| Filling each corner with her hideous cries: 501:01,109[A ]| Sometimes rage, like a burning fever, heats, 501:01,110[A ]| Anon despair brings cold and clammy sweats; 501:01,111[A ]| She cannot sleep ~~ or if she doth she dreams 501:01,112[A ]| Of rapes, thefts, burnings, blood, and direful themes; 501:01,113[A ]| Tosses from side to side, then by-and-by 501:01,114[A ]| Her feet are laid there where the head did lie. 501:01,115[A ]| None can come to her but bold empirics, 501:01,116[A ]| Who never meant to cure her but try tricks. 501:01,117[A ]| Those very doctors who should give her ease ~~ 501:01,118[A ]| God help the patient! ~~ were her worst disease. 501:01,119[A ]| The Italian mountebank Vane tells her sure 501:01,120[A ]| Jesuits' powder will effect the cure; 501:01,121[A ]| If grief but makes her swell, Marten and Neville 501:01,122[A ]| Conclude it is a spice of the King's evil. 501:01,123@w | "Bleed her again!" 501:01,123[A ]| another cries, and Scot 501:01,124[A ]| Says he could cure her if 'twas ~~ you know what, 501:01,125[A ]| But giddy Harrington a whimsey found 501:01,126[A ]| To make her head like to his brains run round. 501:01,127[A ]| Her old and wise physicians, who before 501:01,128[A ]| Had well-nigh cur'd her, came again to the door, 501:01,129[A ]| But were kept out, which made her cry the more 501:01,130[A ]| "Help, help, dear children! oh, some pity take 501:01,131[A ]| On her who bore you! help, for mercy sake! 501:01,132[A ]| Oh, heart! oh, head! oh, back! oh, bones! I feel 501:01,133[A ]| They've poison'd me with giving too much steel! 501:01,134[A ]| Oh, give me that for which I long and cry ~~ 501:01,135[A ]| Something that's sovereign, or else I die!" 501:01,000[' ]| <6.> 501:01,136[A ]| Kind Cheshire heard and, like some son that stood 501:01,137[A ]| Upon the bank, straight jump'd into the flood, 501:01,138[A ]| Flings out his arms and strikes some strokes to swim. 501:01,139[A ]| Booth ventur'd first and Middleton with him; 501:01,140[A ]| Stout Mackworth, Egerton, and thousands more, 501:01,141[A ]| Threw themselves in and left the safer shore; 501:01,142[A ]| Massey, that famous diver, and bold Browne 501:01,143[A ]| Forsook his wharf, resolving all to drown 501:01,144[A ]| Or save a sinking kingdom; but (O sad!) 501:01,145[A ]| Fearing to lose her prey, the sea grew mad, 501:01,146[A ]| Rais'd all her billows and resolv'd her waves 501:01,147[A ]| Should quickly be the bold adventurer's graves. 501:01,148[A ]| Out marches Lambert like an eastern wind 501:01,149[A ]| And with him all the mighty waters join'd. 501:01,150[A ]| The loyal swimmers bore up heads and breasts, 501:01,151[A ]| Scorning to think of life or interests. 501:01,152[A ]| They pli'd their arms and thighs, but all in vain: 501:01,153[A ]| The furious main beat them to shore again, 501:01,154[A ]| At which the floating island, looking back, 501:01,155[A ]| Spying her loyal lovers gone to wrack, 501:01,156[A ]| Shriek'd louder than before, and thus she cries: 501:01,157[A ]| "Can you, ye angry heav'ns and frowning skies, 501:01,158[A ]| Thus countenance rebellious mutineers, 501:01,159[A ]| Who, if they durst, would be about your ears? 501:01,160[A ]| That I should sink with justice may accord, 501:01,161[A ]| Who let my pilot be thrown overboard, 501:01,162[A ]| Yet 'twas not I, ye rightous heav'ns do know ~~ 501:01,163[A ]| The soldiers in me needs would have it so ~~ 501:01,164[A ]| And those who conjur'd up these storms themselves 501:01,165[A ]| And first engag'd me 'mongst these rocks and shelves, 501:01,166[A ]| Guilty of all my woes, have rais'd this weather, 501:01,167[A ]| Fearing to come to land and choosing rather 501:01,168[A ]| To sink me with themselves. O cease to frown! 501:01,169[A ]| In tears, just heav'ns, behold, myself I drown! 501:01,170[A ]| Let not these proud waves do it; prevent my fears 501:01,171[A ]| And let them fall together by the ears." 501:01,000[' ]| <7.> 501:01,172[A ]| Heav'n heard and struck the insulting army mad; 501:01,173[A ]| Drunk with their Cheshire triumphs straight they had 501:01,174[A ]| New lights uprear'd, and new resolves they take, 501:01,175[A ]| A single person once again to make. 501:01,176[A ]| Who shall he be? Oh! Lambert, without rub, 501:01,177[A ]| The fittest de'il to be Beelzebub. 501:01,178[A ]| He, the fierce fiend cast out of the House before, 501:01,179[A ]| Return'd and threw the House now out of door; 501:01,180[A ]| A legion then he rais'd of armed sprites, 501:01,181[A ]| Elves, goblins, fairies, Quakers, and New Lights, 501:01,182[A ]| To be his under-devils; with this rest 501:01,183[A ]| He soul and body, Church and State, possess'd, 501:01,184[A ]| Who though they fill'd all countries, towns, and rooms, 501:01,185[A ]| Yet, like that fiend that did frequent the tombs, 501:01,186[A ]| Churches and sacred grounds they haunted most ~~ 501:01,187[A ]| No chapel was at ease from some such ghost. 501:01,188[A ]| The priests ordain'd to exorcise those elves 501:01,189[A ]| Were voted devils and cast out themselves ~~ 501:01,190[A ]| Bible, or Alcoran, all's one to them; 501:01,191[A ]| Religion serves but for a stratagem ~~ 501:01,192[A ]| The holy charms these adders did not heed; 501:01,193[A ]| Churches themselves did sanctuary need. 501:01,000[' ]| <8.> 501:01,194[A ]| The Church's patrimony and rich store 501:01,195[A ]| Alas! was swallow'd many years before. 501:01,196[A ]| Bishops and deans we fed upon before 501:01,197[A ]| (They were the ribs and sirloins of the Whore); 501:01,198[A ]| Now let her legs, the priests, go to the pot 501:01,199[A ]| (They have the Pope's eye in them ~~ spare them not!) 501:01,200[A ]| We have fat benefices yet to eat ~~ 501:01,201[A ]| Bel and our Dragon army must have meat. 501:01,202[A ]| Let us devour her limb-meal, great and small, 501:01,203[A ]| Tithe-calves, geese, pigs, the pettitoes and all. 501:01,204[A ]| A vicarage in sippets, though it be 501:01,205[A ]| But small, will serve a squeamish sectary. 501:01,206[A ]| Though universities we can't endure, 501:01,207[A ]| There's no false Latin in their lands, be sure. 501:01,208[A ]| Give Oxford to our Horse and let the Foot 501:01,209[A ]| Take Cambridge for their booty and fall to't. 501:01,210@w | "Christ*Church I'll have," 501:01,210[A ]| cries Vane; Desb'rough swops 501:01,211[A ]| At Trinity; King's is for Berry's chops; 501:01,212[A ]| Kelsey, take Corpus*Christi; All*Souls, Packer; 501:01,213[A ]| Carve Creed St%*John's; New*College leave to Hacker; 501:01,214[A ]| Fleetwood cries, 501:01,214@v | "Weeping Magdalen shall be mine, 501:01,215@v | Her tears I'll drink instead of muscadine." 501:01,216[A ]| The smaller halls and houses scarce are big 501:01,217[A ]| Enough to make one dish for Hasilrig. 501:01,218@x | "We must be sure to stop his mouth, though wide, 501:01,219@x | Else all our fat will be in the fire," 501:01,219[A ]| they cri'd, 501:01,220@x | "And when we have done these, we'll not be quiet ~~ 501:01,221@x | Lordships' and landlords' rents shall be our diet." 501:01,222[A ]| Thus talk'd this jolly crew, but still mine host 501:01,223[A ]| Lambert resolves that he will rule the roast. 501:01,000[' ]| <9.> 501:01,224[A ]| But hark! methinks I hear old Boreas blow. 501:01,225[A ]| What mean the north winds that they bluster so? 501:01,226[A ]| More storms from that black nook? Forbear, bold Scot! 501:01,227[A ]| Let not Dunbar and Worcester be forgot. 501:01,228[A ]| What! would you chaffer with us for one Charles more? 501:01,229[A ]| The price of kings is fallen, give the trade o'er. 501:01,230@a | "And is the price of kings and kingdoms too, 501:01,231@a | Of laws, lives, oaths, souls, grown so low with you? 501:01,232@a | Perfidious hypocrites! monsters of men!" 501:01,233[A ]| Cries the good Monck, 501:01,233@a | "We'll raise their price again!" 501:01,234[A ]| Heav'n said Amen! and breath'd upon that spark; 501:01,235[A ]| That spark, preserv'd alive in the cold and dark, 501:01,236[A ]| First kindl'd and enflam'd the British Isle 501:01,237[A ]| And turn'd it all to bonfires in a while. 501:01,238[A ]| He and his fuel were so small no doubt 501:01,239[A ]| Proud Lambert thought to tread or piss them out. 501:01,240[A ]| But George was wary; his cause did require 501:01,241[A ]| A pillar of a cloud as well as fire: 501:01,242[A ]| 'Twas not his safest course to flame but smoke ~~ 501:01,243[A ]| His enemies he will not burn but choke. 501:01,244[A ]| Small fires must not blaze out, lest by their light 501:01,245[A ]| They show their weakness and their foes invite; 501:01,246[A ]| But furnaces the stoutest metals melt, 501:01,247[A ]| And so did he, by fire not seen but felt; 501:01,248[A ]| Dark-lantern language and his peep-bo play 501:01,249[A ]| Will-e-wisp'd Lambert's New Lights out of the way. 501:01,250[A ]| George and his boys those thousands (O strange things!) 501:01,251[A ]| Of snipes and woodcocks took by lowbelling; 501:01,252[A ]| His few Scotch-coal kindl'd with English fire 501:01,253[A ]| Made Lambert's great Newcastle heaps expire. 501:01,000[' ]| <10.> 501:01,254[A ]| Scotland, though poor and peevish, was content 501:01,255[A ]| To keep the peace and (O rare!) money lent. 501:01,256[A ]| But yet the blessing of their Kirk was more ~~ 501:01,257[A ]| George had that too ~~ and with this slender store 501:01,258[A ]| He and his myrmidons advance. Kind Heaven 501:01,259[A ]| Prepar'd a frost to make their march more even, 501:01,260[A ]| Easy, and safe: it may be said, that year, 501:01,261[A ]| Of the highways Heav'n itself was overseer 501:01,262[A ]| And made November ground as hard as May. 501:01,263[A ]| White as their innocence, so was their way. 501:01,264[A ]| The clouds came down in feather-beds to greet 501:01,265[A ]| Him and his army and to kiss their feet. 501:01,266[A ]| The frost and foes both came and went together, 501:01,267[A ]| Both thaw'd away, and vanish'd God knows whither. 501:01,268[A ]| Whole countries crowded in to see this friend, 501:01,269[A ]| Ready to cast their bodies down to mend 501:01,270[A ]| His road to Westminster, and still they shoult, 501:01,271@x | "Lay hold of the Rump and pull the monster out! 501:01,272@x | A new one or a whole one, good my Lord," 501:01,273[A ]| And to this cry the island did accord. 501:01,274[A ]| The echo of the Irish hollow ground 501:01,275[A ]| Heard England and her language did rebound. 501:01,000[' ]| <11.> 501:01,276[A ]| Presto! Jack*Lambert and his sprites are gone 501:01,277[A ]| To dance a jig with his brother Oberon. 501:01,278[A ]| George made him and his cut-throats of our lives 501:01,279[A ]| Swallow their swords as jugglers do their knives, 501:01,280[A ]| And Carter Desborough to wish in vain 501:01,281[A ]| He now were wagoner to Charles's Wain. 501:01,282[A ]| The conqueror's now come into the south, 501:01,283[A ]| Whose warm air is made hot by ev'ry mouth 501:01,284[A ]| Breathing his welcome and in spite of Scott 501:01,285[A ]| Crying 501:01,285@w | "The whole child, sir, divide it not." 501:01,286[A ]| The Rump begins to stink: 501:01,286@x | "Alas!" 501:01,286[A ]| cry they, 501:01,287@x | "We've rais'd a devil which we cannot lay; 501:01,288@x | I like him not." 501:01,288@v | "His belly is so big, 501:01,289@v | There's a king in it!" 501:01,289[A ]| cries furious Hasilrig. 501:01,290@x | "Let's bribe him," 501:01,290[A ]| they cry all, 501:01,290@x | "Carve him a share 501:01,291@x | Of our stol'n venison!" 501:01,291[A ]| Varlets, forbear! 501:01,292[A ]| In vain you put your lime-twigs to his hands. 501:01,293[A ]| George*Monck is for the King, not for his lands. 501:01,294[A ]| When fair means would not do, next foul they try: 501:01,295@x | "Vote him the City scavenger," 501:01,295[A ]| they cry ~~ 501:01,296@x | "Send him to scour their streets." 501:01,296@a | "Well, let it be; 501:01,297@a | Your Rumpship wants a scouring too," 501:01,297[A ]| thinks he, 501:01,298@a | "That foul house where your worships many years 501:01,299@a | Have laid your tail sure wants a scavenger. 501:01,300@a | I smell your fizzle though it make no crack. 501:01,301@a | You'd mount me on the City's galled back 501:01,302@a | In hopes she'd cast her rider. If I must 501:01,303@a | Upon some office in the town be thrust, 501:01,304@a | I'll be their sword-bearer, and to their dagger 501:01,305@a | I'll join my sword. Nay, good Rump, do not swagger; 501:01,306@a | The City feasts me, and as sure as gun 501:01,307@a | I'll mend all England's Commons ere I've done." 501:01,000[' ]| <12.> 501:01,308[A ]| And so he did. One morning next his heart 501:01,309[A ]| He went to Westminster and play'd his part. 501:01,310[A ]| He vamp'd their boots, which Hewson ne'er could do 501:01,311[A ]| With better leather, made them go upright too. 501:01,312[A ]| The restor'd members, Cato-like, no doubt, 501:01,313[A ]| Did only enter that they might go out. 501:01,314[A ]| They did not mean within those walls to dwell, 501:01,315[A ]| Nor did they like their company so well, 501:01,316[A ]| Yet Heav'n so bless'd them that in three weeks' space 501:01,317[A ]| They gave both Church and State a better face. 501:01,318[A ]| They gave Booth, Massey, Browne, some kinder lots 501:01,319[A ]| (The last year's traitors, this year's patriots). 501:01,320[A ]| The Church's poor remainder they made good 501:01,321[A ]| And wash'd the nation's hands of royal blood; 501:01,322[A ]| And that a Parliament they did devise 501:01,323[A ]| From its own ashes, phoenix-like, might rise. 501:01,324[A ]| This done by act and deed that might not fail 501:01,325[A ]| They pass'd a fine and so cut off th' entail. 501:01,000[' ]| <13.> 501:01,326[A ]| Let the bells ring these changes now from Bow 501:01,327[A ]| Down to the country candlesticks below. 501:01,328[A ]| Ringers, hands off! The bells themselves will dance 501:01,329[A ]| In memory of their own deliverance. 501:01,330[A ]| Had not George show'd his metal and said nay, 501:01,331[A ]| Each sectary had borne the bell away. 501:01,332@x | "Down with them all, they're christen'd," 501:01,332[A ]| cri'd that crew; 501:01,333@x | "Tie up their clappers and the parsons too; 501:01,334@x | Turn them to guns, or sell them to the Dutch." 501:01,335@a | "Nay, hold," 501:01,335[A ]| quoth George, 501:01,335@a | "my masters, that's too much. 501:01,336@a | You will not leap o'er steeples thus I hope ~~ 501:01,337@a | I'll save the bells but you may take the rope." 501:01,338[A ]| Thus lay Religion panting for her life, 501:01,339[A ]| Like Isaac bound under the bloody knife; 501:01,340[A ]| George held the falling weapon, sav'd the lamb, 501:01,341[A ]| Let Lambert in the briars be the ram. 501:01,342[A ]| So lay the royal virgin, as 'tis told, 501:01,343[A ]| When brave St%*George redeem'd her life of old. 501:01,344[A ]| Oh that the knaves that have consum'd our land, 501:01,345[A ]| Had but permitted wood enough to stand 501:01,346[A ]| To be his bonfires! We'd burn ev'ry stem 501:01,347[A ]| And leave no more but gallow-trees for them! 501:01,000[' ]| <14.> 501:01,348[A ]| March on, great hero! as thou hast begun, 501:01,349[A ]| And crown our happiness before thou'st done. 501:01,350[A ]| We have another Charles to fetch from Spain; 501:01,351[A ]| Be thou the George to bring him back again. 501:01,352[A ]| Then shalt thou be, what was deni'd that knight, 501:01,353[A ]| Thy Prince's and the people's favorite. 501:01,354[A ]| There is no danger of the winds at all, 501:01,355[A ]| Unless together by the ears they fall 501:01,356[A ]| Who shall the honor have to waft a king, 501:01,357[A ]| And they who gain it while they work shall sing. 501:01,358[A ]| Methinks I see how those triumphant gales, 501:01,359[A ]| Proud of their great employment, swell the sails; 501:01,360[A ]| The joyful ship shall dance, the sea shall laugh, 501:01,361[A ]| And loyal fish their master's health shall quaff. 501:01,362[A ]| See how the dolphins crowd and thrust their large 501:01,363[A ]| And scaly shoulders to assist the barge; 501:01,364[A ]| The peaceful kingfishers are met together 501:01,365[A ]| About the decks and prophesy calm weather; 501:01,366[A ]| Poor crabs and lobsters have gone down to creep, 501:01,367[A ]| And search for pearls and jewels in the deep; 501:01,368[A ]| And when they have the booty, crawl before, 501:01,369[A ]| And leave them for his welcome to the shore. 501:01,000[' ]| <15.> 501:01,370[A ]| Methinks I see how throngs of people stand, 501:01,371[A ]| Scarce patient till the vessel come to land, 501:01,372[A ]| Ready to leap in, and, if need require, 501:01,373[A ]| With tears of joy to make the waters higher. 501:01,374[A ]| But what will London do? I doubt Old Paul 501:01,375[A ]| With bowing to his Sovereign will fall; 501:01,376[A ]| The royal lions from the Tower shall roar, 501:01,377[A ]| And though they see him not, yet shall adore; 501:01,378[A ]| The conduits will be ravish'd and combine 501:01,379[A ]| To turn their very water into wine, 501:01,380[A ]| And for the citizens, I only pray 501:01,381[A ]| They may not, overjoy'd, all die that day. 501:01,382[A ]| May we all live more loyal and more true, 501:01,383[A ]| To give to Caesar and to God their due. 501:01,384[A ]| We'll make his father's tomb with tears to swim, 501:01,385[A ]| And for the son, we'll shed our blood for him. 501:01,386[A ]| England her penitential song shall sing 501:01,387[A ]| And take heed how she quarrels with her King. 501:01,388[A ]| If for our sins our Prince shall be misled, 501:01,389[A ]| We'll bite our nails rather than scratch our head. 501:01,000[' ]| <16.> 501:01,390[A ]| One English George outweighs alone, by odds, 501:01,391[A ]| A whole committee of the heathens' gods; 501:01,392[A ]| Pronounce but Monck, and it is all his due: 501:01,393[A ]| He is our Mercury, Mars, and Neptune too. 501:01,394[A ]| Monck, what great Xerxes could not, prov'd the man 501:01,395[A ]| That with a word shackl'd the ocean; 501:01,396[A ]| He shall command Neptune himself to bring 501:01,397[A ]| His trident and present it to our King. 501:01,398[A ]| Oh, do it then, great Admiral! Away! 501:01,399[A ]| Let him be here against St%*George's day, 501:01,400[A ]| That Charles may wear his \9Dieu 9et 9mon 9droit\, 501:01,401[A ]| And thou the noble-garter'd \7Honi 7soit\. 501:01,402[A ]| And when thy aged corpse shall yield to fate, 501:01,403[A ]| God save that soul that sav'd our Church and State. 501:01,404[A ]| There thou shalt have a glorious crown, I know, 501:01,405[A ]| Who crown'st our King and kingdoms here below. 501:01,406[A ]| But who shall find a pen fit for thy glory, 501:01,407[A ]| Or make posterity believe thy story? 501:01,408[A ]| 9Vive St%*George!