The contented Subjects; Or, the Citizens Joy
No Power without Gods Providence;
shall ever last or stand:
Then God preserve our Gracious Prince,
and Soveraign of this Land.
The Tune is, Now, now the Fights done.
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NOw, now the times come, Noble Prichard is chose,
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In spight of all People that would him oppose:
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The King and His Subjects, I hope will agree,
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That troubles and dangers, forgotten may be;
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Then, now London Citizens merrily Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper our King.
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The difference now, I hope is Composd,
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And the confidence that in our Mayors Reposd;
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I do hope will be answerd in every degree,
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If so, then no Subjects more happy than we:
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Then brave London Citizens merrily Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper the King.
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Our Flourishing Monarch, whose Fame doth abound,
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The Defender of Faith, I do hope will be found:
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Let the Turk and the Pope, both of him stand in fear,
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Whose Protestant Principles, now are so clear;
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That the brave London Citizens merrily Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper the King.
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Do but mind how the Heavens upon us do smile,
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And the Popes expectations do clearly beguile:
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To obliege Sinful Men, from their fault to refrain,
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That in Heaven above, they with Saints may remain;
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Then Protestant Subjects be merry and Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper the King.
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The Divisions of late, that did strangely increase,
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I hope will conclude in a Flourishing Peace;
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And England be freed from the dangers and fears,
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Which seemd for to threaten her several years:
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Then may Loyal Citizens merrily Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper the King.
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And who can foretell what Gods Love will bestow
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On us Sinful Men, who Inhabit below?
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Since dayly we find that the Powers above,
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Sends us dayly Symptomes of Mercy and Love:
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But let brave Loyal Citizens merrily Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper the King.
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Thrice happy are Subjects, Yea, Blessed are they
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Who Honour their Prince, and Gods Laws do obey:
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Upon that Blest Land, will Providence flow
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Twere happy for England, if we could do so;
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Yet London brave Citizens merrily Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper our King.
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What Prince ever Reignd in this Island before,
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More filled with Love, that hath Mercy in store?
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That freely forgives many who do offend,
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In hopes to find Mercy himself, in the end:
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Then brave London Citizens merrily Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper our King.
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Then lift up your Souls both in Heart and in Voice,
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Bless Heaven so kind, for so happy a Choice;
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As lately was made, to the Peoples content,
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Of which I do hope they will never repent:
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While the brave London Citizens merrily Sing;
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper the King.
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You brave English Subjects, that Honour your Prince,
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Take pattern by me, and let reason Convince:
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That our King doth endeavour this Land to Advance,
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And not keep you like the Poor Serviles in France;
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Then let London Citizens merrily Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper the King.
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Of Whigs and of Torys, we hear shall no more,
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These Names of distinctions did trouble some sore:
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But since God and the King, to England are friends,
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Know, where strife amongst Subjects so strangely depends,
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The Citizens then very faintly will Sing,
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But God Bless the Mayor, and Prosper the King.
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Do but mind with what joy this Mayor was receivd,
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Twould make you admire, tis by some not believd:
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But tis certainly sure, give but Credit to me,
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That goes not by Here-say; but this I did see:
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Then London brave Citizens merrily Sing,
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God Bless Noble Prichard, and Prosper the King.
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