THey who oppose your Right unto the Crown,
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Would, had they pow'r, pull Monarchy quite down:not, so qualifi'd they would have one
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Of this, or that Religion, on the Throne;
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No, no, we know their minds, they would have none.
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The men that lately kept from Charles his due,
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Now promise fair to dis-inherit you;
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They who explode your Right, to make us slaves,
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Are not Presumptive, but Apparent Knaves:
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By our Dissentions they would smooth their way,
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And from Contenders hope to snatch the Prey.
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But such men seldom in the end can boast,
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They threaten loud, but still their Cause is lost
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In such affairs, they'll find it to their cost.
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Still the old Cheat, Religion is the cry,
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And made the Ram to batter Monarchy;
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'Cause they deserve, they fear the smarting Rod,
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And most Religiously distrust their God.
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Envy at Regal Sway, (Ah it is sad)
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And Zeal mis-guided made those Bill-men mad:
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These took rash measures, and did ill advise;
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But without jealousie or wrong surmise,
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The future will prove Loyal, Calm, and Wise.
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To us it cannot but assurance bring,
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That a good Man can make as good a King.
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Factious design, and damn'd Plebeian rage,
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Does to no mean degree distract the Age,
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Whilst Grand Disturbers, private lie in wait.
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And watch the tott'ring of our settled State.
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But can we be such Sheep, such careless Elves,
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Not to beware the Wolves among ourselves?
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Those Beasts of Prey, that lurk in a disguise,
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That wear our skins; 'tis there our danger lies:
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Against their Brother-Wolves they raise the cry,their Addresses are not half so slie.
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A Papist seems a Papist to our sight,
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But our Fanatick, 'cause he would not fright,
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Daubs o'er the Devil like a Child of Light.
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But Ah! great Sir, where you should still Command,
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You, like a Stranger, visit your own Land;
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You for a moment Tantalize our sight,
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Then, like the absent Sun, you give us night:
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But 'tis the ready way, we must confess,
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To make us know and prize our happiness;
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Whilst all do suffer, for the faulty few,
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England must lose it self in losing you.
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But to Great Britain come------
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May you in highest splendor live, and be
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Happy and safe, Great Sir, in One of Three.
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Sir, may your Right no otherwise prove vain,
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Than by the length of our Great CHARLES his Reign.
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We cannot, Sir, but prove a happy Nation;
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One bliss enjoy'd, another in expectation.
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There but remains this great Truth in the close,
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Your Virtue 'nd Courage, Sir, the whole World knows,
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And y' are born for Conquest o'er your Foes.
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