THE
Countreys Advice
To the Late
Duke of Monmouth,
And Those in Rebellion with Him.
This may be Printed. R.L.S. June 30.
|
I.
|
YOU, who the gazing World did once admire,
|
And You, who were extoll'd and prais'd by all;
|
You, who each sighing Virgin did desire,
|
And You, who once we might Great Monmouth call;
|
Wherefore do you against our Peace conspire,
|
And in a bloody War our Land inthral?
|
Thus Lucifer aspiring to be Great,
|
Was thrown from Heav'n to his Infernal Seat.
|
II.
|
When to Great CHARLES's Arms you did return,
|
(Not of your fore-committed Crimes to tell,)
|
How did that Sacred Prince's Bosom burn,
|
In hopes you from your former Ills had fell!
|
But, oh! too much Indulgence makes us mourn,
|
And sighs, instead of Joy, our Bosoms swell.
|
Thus Mercy freely given is abus'd,
|
And Pardon'd Rebels for Sham-Princes us'd.
|
III.
|
Weigh with your self the Fall of Absalom,
|
Let His Example teach You to be wise;
|
(He justly had a Rebels Martyrdom,
|
And climb'd a Tree, 'cause he'd a mind to rise.)
|
Just Heav'n in Thunder will with Vengeance come,
|
And on your Head avenge your Treacheries.
|
Think on the guiltless Blood you hourly spill,
|
Where Brother Brother, Father Son does kill.
|
IV.
|
In vain (alas!) Rebellious Arms you use,
|
In vain you mighty Preparations make,
|
And but in vain our Monarch you abuse,
|
And skulking round about poor Women take;
|
In vain you your Rebellion would excuse,
|
By saying 'tis for pure Religions sake.
|
What your Religion is, I cannot tell,
|
But Protestants (I'm sure) can ne're Rebell.
|
V.
|
Though with your weak Pretences you delude,
|
And bring in some who're Traytors in Despair,
|
A wretched, hopeless, gaping Multitude,
|
Whose desp'rate Souls know neither sonse nor care;
|
Yet all in vain your Treasons are pursu'd,
|
Your Stratagems but weak and feeble are;
|
For the Almighty has his Angels spread,
|
To guard our Sacred Lawful Monarchs Head.
|
VI.
|
What shew of Right, what Law can you pretend,
|
To justifie this bold, this bloody Deed?
|
What is't you'd have? wherefore do you contend,
|
That thus you make the shaking Countrey bleed?
|
Is this our Liberties? Are you our Friend?
|
Dear Liberties, and a fast Friend indeed.
|
Our Souls at Liberty you set; our Wives,
|
Our Goods, and Children, perish with our Lives.
|
VII.
|
When on Ambitions Wings you first were tost,
|
And the curst Faction did your mind invite,
|
They spar'd no Time, no Labour, nor no cost,
|
To puff you up with a supposed Right:
|
But, 'cause you shou'd not in your Pride be lost,
|
Your Royal Father clear'd your misted sight,
|
Who (Wise as Just, and Powerful as Great)
|
Declar'd you to be ILLEGITIMATE.
|
VIII.
|
And you deluded Souls that are engag'd
|
In Arms against your Just and Lawful Prince,
|
Consult the grounds on which this War is wag'd,
|
Call back your Reason, and allarm your Sense,
|
That this sad bloody Conflict be asswag'd,
|
In which you ne're can hope for recompence.
|
Ask God forgiveness, your wrong'd Sov'reign greet,
|
And lay your Arms at His Imperial Feet.
|
IX.
|
Good God! that ever People thus should be
|
Into such base, unnat'ral Wars betray'd,
|
Under the old sham-tale of LIBERTY,
|
Which at that very time they do invade,
|
When we before had all things just and free,
|
Nor any fear, or cause to be afraid:
|
Now Treason, Murther, Rape, and Massacre,
|
Must the blest Title of RELIGION bear.
|
X.
|
But if you will not now be wise in time,
|
And choose Repentance e're it be late,
|
May you with speed be punish'd for your Crime,
|
And meet the scourge of your deserved Fate;
|
And for your Head, who wou'd to Empire climb
|
Upon the Ashes of a ruin'd State,
|
Since neither Pardon, nor a Princes Love,
|
Can the sweet Bait of Mighty Crowns remove,
|
Let him unpity'd in a Dungeon lie,
|
Till with Despair and Envy he shall die.
|
|
|
|
|
|