THE Whigs Address TO His MAJESTY.
May it please Your MAJESTY,
WE who were never yet at quiet,
Lovers of CHANGE, DISORDER, RIOT,
Old Sticklers for a COMMON-WEALTH,
(If you believe us) wish you Health,
A long, a safe, a prosperous Reign;
(The wicked
Tories think we feign:)
We who all Monarchy despise,
Hope to find Favour in your Eyes;
Think you a
Protestant so hearty
As not to Disoblige our PARTY,
And humbly beg at any Rate
To be CHIEF MINISTERS OF STATE,
Or else your Person we shall hate:
For tho' Religion bears the name,
It's GOVERNMENT is all our Aim.
We'll be as Faithful and as Just
As to your Uncle,
Charles the First:
Grant this Request, your Cause we'll own,
And ease the Burthen of the Crown;
Make it the Easiest e'er was worn,
You'll scarcely know you've any on.
But if
(Great SIR,) we find you slight us,
Our selves can tell which way to Right us;
And let you know, by fad Disasters,
Tho' you are Lord, yet we are Masters.
This Truth you cannot chuse but know,
We prov'd it sixty Years ago;
Yet shall you find us now on Tryal,
Your faithfull Subjects,
OR WE LYE ALL.