A COUNTREY SONG, INTITULED, THE RESTORATION.
I.
COme, come away,
To the Temple and
pray,
And
sing with a pleasant strain:
The
Schismatick's dead,
The
Liturgy's read,
And the King enjoyes his own again.
II.
The
Vicar is glad,
The
Clerk is not sad,
And the
Parish cannot refrain,
To leap, and rejoyce,
And lift up their voyce,
That the King enjoyes his own again.
III.
The
Countrey doth bow,
To old
Iustices now,
That long aside have been lain:
The
Bishop's restor'd,
God is rightly ador'd,
And the King enjoyes his own again.
IV.
Committee-men fall,
And
Majors Generall,
No more doe those Tyrants reign:
There's no
Sequestration,
Nor new
Decimation:
For the King enjoyes the Sword again.
V.
The
Scholar doth look,
With joy on his Book;
Tom whistles and plows amain:
Soldiers plunder no more,
As they did heretofore:
For the King enjoyes the Sword again.
VI.
The
Citizens Trade.
The
Merchants do Lade,
And send their Ships into
Spain:
No
Pirates at Sea,
To make them a prey,
For the King enjoyes the Sword again.
VII.
The old
Man and
Boy,
The
Clergy and
Lay,
Their joyes cannot contain:
'Tis better then of late,
With the
Church and the
State,
Now the King enjoyes the Sword again.
VIII.
Let's render our praise,
For these happy dayes,
To
God and our
Soveraign:
Your
drinking give ore,
Swear not as before:
For the King bears not the Sword in vain.
IX.
Fanaticks be quiet,
And keep a good Diet,
To cure your
crazy brain:
Throw off your disguise,
Go to
Church and be wise;
For the King bears not the Sword in vain.
X.
Let
Faction and
Pride,
Be now laid aside,
That
Truth and
Peace may reign:
Let every one
mend,
And there is an
end,
For the King bears not the Sword in vain.