Unfeigned Friendship, OR, The Loyalists Cordial Advice. A pleasant New Playhouse Song, now greatly in Request.
Concord is that by which the world does move
Nor is the worlds Creator ought but love:
in thise Mens happiness do chiefly rest,
And none without them ever yet was blest.
To a new playhouse Tune, called, How happy's the State, or, Can Life be a Blessing, &c.
HOw happy's the State where no discords are dreeding
No strife, nor debate, no cares too exceeding?
Oh! there 'tis they'r blessed of all things possessed,
Oh! there they have happiness heap'd up in store;
There's traesure, and pleasure, & joy beyond measure,
So happy are they that need not no more.
Why then shou'd fond mortals seek their own annoy,
And open the Portals, themselves to destroy,
To plague one another, and hare each his Brother,
To banish the Father and ruine the Son,
When treasure & pleasure wou'd slow beyond measure
If concord it triumphed and discord was gone?
If each in his station wou'd keep his right sphere,
Then all our vexations wou'd soon disappear:
Ah! then all confusion and all strong delusion
On th' wings of disorder with darkness wou'd direct:
Then pleasure, and treasure, and joys beyond measure
Wou'd sorrows, and cares, and harsh discord expell.
Then
England be wise, and let Unity flourish,
Let none be precise, their fond fancies to cherish;
Thereby in their passion to trouble the Nation:
For if with discretion each mortal wou'd move,
Then treasure and pleasure wou'd flow beyond measure,
Then all wou'd be peace, oh then all wou'd be love.
If none wou'd stickle at the
Oath of
Allegiance,
No, nor
Conventicle to baulk their obedience,
Nor at Ceremonies where deceney shown is
Cavell and Carp, and yet give us no reason:
Then treasure and treasure wou'd flow beyond measure,
And happy, thrice happy wou'd be the bless'd reason.
Then the
Pope might despair and the
Jesnites repine,
For they nothing could share if we once did but joyn;
If discord was banish'd, and envy quite banish'd,
Then happy, thrice happy a Nation were we,
Then treasure and pleasure wou'd slow without measure,
And all we cou'd wish we should instantly be.
Then those golden days which the Poets once feigned,
Might to our high praise once again be regained;
For were we united our cares wou'd be slighted,
Then happy, how happy should we live at ease!
Then treasure and pleasure wou'd flow beyond measure,
And we shou'd lye down in the vailes of sweet prace.
With roses o'respread, and with sillies surrounded,
Where with troubles our head shou'd ne'r be confounded,
But still sweet repose with soft slimber shou'd close,
Our eyes and our cares, and all that disturb us:
The treasure and pleasure wou'd flow beyond measure,
When nothing, when nothing remain'd as could curb us.
Then at last be you Wive you
Whiggs, and come over,
There's nought you devise more content can discover;
Be no more discontented, least 'tis repented
When it is too late, and the time it is past;
When as treasure & pleasure won't flow beyond measures
For then all your hopes will be at the last cast.
Then be not perverse, but let Unity flourish,
Idle Dreams ne'r rehearse, nor wilfulness cherish,
But be loyal, be loyal, and you'l desie all
That envy and malice does plot for your harm;
Then treasure and pleasure will slow beyond measure
Obedience and Unity is the best charm.
To secare us from strife, and all idle debate;
Which, alas! are too rise amongst many oblate:
Then at last be you wise, and come take my advice,
And make your selves happy whilest time does remain,
That treasure and pleasure may
[...] without treasure,
That Concord and Unity ever may Raign.
Printed for J. Wright, J. Clark, W. Thackery, and T. Passinger.