LEt Subjects sing, Bells ring, and Cannons rore,
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And every Ship come dancing to the Shore,
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To Crown Great JAMES with everlasting Bays,
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And to his Worth ad Hecatombs of Praise;
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That Loyalists may their Allegiance pay,
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And flourish forth the Triumph of this Day
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Which mitigates our Moan, the Rod to kiss;
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And gives our Grief more than Parenthesis.
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Black sable Night, and Shades, eclipsd our Sky,
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When Royal CHARLES the Good and Great did dye:
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But radient Beams Great Britains Haven now clears,
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Since Phoebus-JAMES behind the Cloud appears,
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Scattering the Vapours of sad Sighs, to make
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His Joyful CROWN our Nations Zodiack.
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The King of kings did Graciously design
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Him Martial, Mild, Majestick, and Divine.
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Ner had Asuerus half of his Renown,
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Nor Pomp, nor Splendour, hanging on his Crown.
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His Queens like Esther, for Majestick Grace
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Darts from her eye, and shines or all her face:
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In Parts, and Person she doth well agree
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With her great Stem, and noble Pedigree.
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His Subjects are more Valiant, (yea, by far)
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Than was Achilles in the Trojan War.
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Brittains a Microcosm, a Fertile Plain,
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Or Edens Map, environd by the Main:
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Her Kings a Monarch, and none dare withstand
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His Force of Armes by swelling Sea, or Land:
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When Lunacy orshadowd Britains Crown,
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He gaind abroad the Garland of Renown.
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And (as St. George the Dragon) James doth put
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The Viper of Sedition under Foot.
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But theres no Need to shew His Majesty
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With Beams I borrow from his Twy-light Sky;
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Let this suffice: JAMES, Brother, and the Son
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Of Charles, [ah Charles!] hath now his Reign begun.
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Retire then Rebels, till our Voice we raise,
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In York-shire Hoes, and Plaudities of Praise.
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