C.R. In a Cloud.
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IT is no strange thing
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To heare that the King
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Hath made his escapes;
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For Jove did the same,
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And got him a name
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(For shifting and Rapes.)
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What he did for Lust
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(For Jupiter must
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With a faire one sport.)
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King Charles did not doe,
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His Junos no shrew,
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Hees not gone to Court.
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No Danaes Power
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In a Brazen Tower
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Hath made him turn shower,
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You know well of old
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That he had no Gold,
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C.R. was too poore.
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Nor ever did low
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For Europa-Cow,
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And feed among Beasts,
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Nor deceivd the Heards
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In a Goatish Beard,
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So quaint he was drest.
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But he is retird,
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As he was d[e]sird,
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For sweet Liberty.
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When every man claimes,
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And makes her his aimes,
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Wont you have Princes free?
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Away with such Knaves,
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Who Liberty craves,
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For their owne pure traines
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Yet would inviron
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Their King, and in Iron
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Binde him, and in chaines.
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We have heard in a manner
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Of the King and Tanner,
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But the King was first:
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But these Translators
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Of the State-matters,
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Make the King the worst.
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Instead of a Crowne,
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Theyll pull him downe,
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As not fit for trust;
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Instead of God save,
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His life they will have,
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Ands Honour ith dust.
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Salt Peters, and Dell,
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You have preached well
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To your Auditory:
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This Doctrine you may
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Read in Loyola;
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Heres a fine story.
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Would any man thinke,
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The Agitators drinke
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Of the waters of Tiber?
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Or that Babylons whore
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Were Peters Paramour,
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Or Dells next Neighbour?
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Protestant God night,
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Welcome Jesuite,
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Welcome pretty Nuns,
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Our Daughters shall be
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Whores of Pietie,
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And Rebells our Sons.
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Charles keep in thy Cloud,
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And there safe thee shrewd,
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Nor break, but as Day.
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The mid Region be
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Thy Artillerie,
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Where Clouds beare the sway.
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Peep a little from thence,
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And lift to what sense
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Wee make of thy Letters,
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Every one doth think
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That great Caesars Inke,
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Never wrot better.
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And as for the matter,
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We cannot here flatter,
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The Royall Inditer,
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But say, as true tis,
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Thy Pen (as was his)
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Is of a ready Writer.
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Were sorry to see,
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That such Treacherie
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Should be in our Land;
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Or that any thing
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Should force our good King
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To his running hand.
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His Letters he throwes,
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Like Parthian Arrowes,
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And Conquers flying.
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Ten thousand are sold,
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Theyll never be old,
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New, new, news theyre crying.
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D you see, do you see,
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How the Presbyterie
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Joy their first named,
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The Assembly men prinke
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Up their Eares; I thinke
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They were neare maimed.
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But be not too cranke
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In the second ranke,
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The Independents
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Will look to your waters,
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And then follow after
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Th Army their defendents.
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Satisfactions next,
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To his party perplext,
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And gone to the Pot,
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Cause th have adhered,
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And are to be feared,
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And even the Scot.
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Now marke his Len voy,
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And cry Vive-le-Roy;
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Can any thinke so,
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God will blesse those Peeres
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Who refuse to heare
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Their King? Surely no.
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As hees Royall to all,
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So he Personall
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Is honest, and just,
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In his care you see
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For deliverie
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Of his Pictures in trust.
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Theres none but a King,
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Could doe such a thing,
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Who is Princely bent,
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Truely to restore,
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(Who can doe any more?
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What the Ladies lend.
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O most gallant Prince,
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Whose free Conscience,
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No evill shall clog,
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He does Whaly beseech,
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To send home the Grew Bitch,
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Before he will jog.
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And his deportment
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Shewes afore he went,
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Him a Gentleman much;
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Who would not neglect
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His civill respects
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To Whaly and such.
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So did he thinke fit,
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Mountague to greet.
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Ands fellowes, whose fames
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Were good, and discourses
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And so were the horses,
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He sent his sonne James.
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His Letters all done,
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Away he is gone,
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And leaves these Papers,
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To be read in the night,
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(But not without light,)
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For by them was Tapers.
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Or if so before,
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They broke up the doore,
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To looke for C.R.
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The Tapers went out,
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In his Cloak without doubt,
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There was a bright starre.
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What wonders are here?
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Yet we doe not feare,
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High-minded and proud;
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Nor our sinnes revoke,
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Yet see Stars in a Cloak,
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And Kings in a Cloud.
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Now were all at a gaze,
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To discover which wayes
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This Angell was gone,
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Where more him attend,
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God did his Guards send,
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And ease those at Hampton.
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God keep our C.R.
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From Martin-King-marre,
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And such evill sprights,
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Who have late brought in
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That cursed Doctrine,
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With their new-found lights.
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But thou blessed Isle,
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That preservest a while
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Thy King, be thou wise,
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Doe not thou betray,
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Nor open thy Bay,
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Nor suffer surprize.
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Our Isles shall be glad,
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The Isle of Wight had
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The keeping our Pan;
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And England will be
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In Unanimity.
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As the Isle of one Man.
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