The True LOYALIST;
OR,
The Obedient SUBJECT,
A Loyal SONG.
To the Tune of, Let Caesar live long.
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LEt Caesar live long, and his temper abide,
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Who twenty years Plentiful seasons has try'd,
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Let twenty, and twenty, be counted too few,
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Still every season consisting of new;
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Till tyr'd with the Joys which this world can afford,
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He retires to be made a more Glorious Lord.
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Let a Royal Almanzo Great, Caesar succeed,
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And England from Faction for ever be freed;
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Through endless Succession may his Race ever run,
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Who by Sea and by Land such wonders has done.
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May his issue increase, and these Nations Rule o're,
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Until ages last period, and time be no more.
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UPon our blest Prince, may all blessings increase
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And England thus happy, still flourish in peace,
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For his safety and Life, may his Subjects all pray,
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And always be Loyal, and ever Obey;
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All round the vast Globe may his Glories be known,
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And let Fame with her Trumpet declare his Renown
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May all his great actions increase in us love,
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And all his proceedings be Crowned above,
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May all in his Kingdoms prove Loyal and true,
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And Faction and Folly no longer pursue:
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May his Scepter endure like the Sun, that does give
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A bright Beauty and Lustre to all things that live.
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May Angels preserve him that sits at the Helm,
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And teaches how Rulers should Govern a Realm;
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All Princes in AEurope rehearse his Great Name,
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And his Wisdom and Conduct, and Glory proclaim:
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So happy are we in our Soveraign Lord,
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That's so great, good, and just, and so true to his word.
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While all other Kingdoms are busied in War,
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While tydings of troubles are brought from afar,
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'Tis England (alone) rests secure, void of fear,
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Then how happy, how happy, we Subjects are here:
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Our obedience and Duty will teach us to sing,
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And declare how the Nation is blest in her King.
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Observe how some Cedar does stretch out his arms,
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And kindly protects the young Trees from all harms,
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No Tempest or Wind can his friendship remove,
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He braves all the Storms, and stands firm in his love;
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Nor the wind hurts with cold, nor the Sun with his heat
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For he shades all their beauty, and makes them look sweet
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This Royal high Cedar is Caesar our King,
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The Trees are his Subjects safe under his Wing;
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what clouds or what storms, or what winds need we fear
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When Angels guard him, for to guard us all here;
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Long, long may he Reign here, whose Vertues we sing,
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And now, now Boys, your Sonnets all,
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God save the King.
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FINIS.
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