A New Song, called,
The DUKE of
GRAFTON'S
Welcome Home into ENGLAND: Or,
His Happy Return from his Forreign Travels.
Tune of, Charon make haste, etc. This may be printed, R.P.
|
[1]
|
ALl Loyal Subjects resolve to be merry,
|
The Duke of Grafton's return'd safe home,
|
Who in the West made the Rebels miscarry,
|
And brought them to their Just Fatal Doom;
|
Let's Ring our Bells, our Drums let's beat,
|
And every tipe of Mirth imploy;
|
Nothing to wellcome him can be too great,
|
Let e'ry heart bless his return with Joy.
|
[2]
|
Happy's the Subject possest of those Favours,
|
Love of his Prince, and his Country too,
|
Gain'd by his valliant and Noble behavours,
|
Bold in his Actions, and alwaies true;
|
May all his Blessings here continue-him,
|
And may his Fame the World Convince;
|
He has a Soul brave and Loyal within-him,
|
Dare to do any thing for his Prince.
|
[3]
|
To gain Experience beyond Sea he Travel'd,
|
his Knowledge in forreign Courts to 'mprove,
|
They at his Gracefull Brave Presence all marvel'd,
|
and thought him Born both for War and Love;
|
Every heart pursued his Favour,
|
And in his Arms a Captive fell.
|
Charm'd by his Looks and his Noble Behavour;
|
no Prince his Virtue could e're excell.
|
[4]
|
His Absence by all Good Subjects was mourned,
|
He graetly was mist by the Noble Train,
|
But now he back into Englands returned,
|
To Bless his own Native Land again;
|
The Cry is pleasant to each Ear,
|
The Loyal Duke of Grafton's come,
|
And e'ry Heart full of Joy doth appear,
|
And Gladly doth wish him a wellcome home.
|
[5]
|
Come Loyal Subjects who scorn the base Trimmer,
|
Charge up a merry cup to the Brim,
|
Here's Loyall Graftons health boys in a Brimmer,
|
Let all Love him as he Loves our KING,
|
Long may he live and Happy be,
|
And all the Worldly Bliss enjoy;
|
From all Misfortunes may Heav'n keep him free,
|
And every unhappy thought distroy.
|
[6]
|
When this great Man to the grave shall retire,
|
May no Oblivion his Fame distroy;
|
Then may his Soul to Bright Heaven aspire;
|
And there be Crown'd with immortal Joy;
|
He that refuses his same Glass,
|
To drink the Health I have begun,
|
Surely shall have three or four in his Face,
|
He therefore had better to drink of one.
|
|
|
|
|
|