THE
Parliament-Complement,
OR THE
RE-ADMISSION
OF THE
SECLUDED-MEMBERS
To the Discharge of their long retarded TRUST.
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SInce sixteen hundred forty and odd,
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We have soundly been lasht with our own rod,
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And have bow'd our selves down at a Tyrants nod,
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Which nobody can deny.
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We have seen a new thing cal'd a Council of State,
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Upheld by a power that's now out of date,
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Put to th' question, by'th members of forty eight;
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Which nobody can deny.
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We have seen what we hope, we shall ne're see agin,
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Now Lambert and Desbrow, are snar'd in the gin,
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The Tail cunningly pieced unto the skin,
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Which nobody can deny.
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A Sword that has frighted our Laws out of dore,
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A Back-sword I wot, that must cut so no more,
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By th' Honour of Monck, now quitting that score,
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Which nobody can deny.
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A Vote lately called the judgment ofth' house,
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To be esteem'd and reputed not worth a Louse,
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And the Grandee of Portsmouth made a fine Chouse,
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Which nobody can deny.
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We have seen an Assessement, a Thing for Taxes,
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Though the Common-wealth waine, the Private waxes:
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Swords into Plowshares, and such bills to axes,
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Which nobody can deny.
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Another new story of Qualification,
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That belong'd to no honest man of the Nation,
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Like the ill contriv'd Authors, quite out of Fashion.
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Which nobody can deny.
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Original sin, was damn'd by that Law,
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The son of a Cavalier made a Jack-straw,
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To be chewed again by their rav'nous jaw,
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Which nobody can deny.
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To fill up the House, and to shuffle the deal,
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New writs issued out, for there new Commonweal,
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But its not worth asking who is't payes the seal,
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Which nobody can deny.
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I wonder who pays the late Parliament Printers,
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That place they may hold as many Summers as Winters
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And wish their Presses were broken in splinters,
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Which nobody can deny.
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A great many Traytors by them lately made,
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Makes Treason be thought a common Trade,
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Sir George Booth and Jack Lambert a while in the shade
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Which nobody can deny.
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We shall now sure give over that word Sequester,
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Now the Tail is cured of their ranckling fester,
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The twentieth of April is much about Easter,
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Which nobody can deny.
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How many Thanks of the House have been idlely spent
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Upon People that still have been malecontent,
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But they must fast from those dainties in this shriving Lent
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Which nobody can deny.
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That honorable favour no more shall be given
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To the factious merit of a party Hell-driven,
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For now our twenty years odds will be even,
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Which nobody can deny.
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Then room for our Prisoners detain'd in the Tower
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And away with the new Lieutenants power,
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Who's minting the widdowed good old causes Dower,
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Which nobody can deny.
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Sir George Booth, shall not think this a hit of fate,
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Nor excuse his keeper, whose warrants out'f date,
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We shall see them all cry Peccavi too late,
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Which nobody can deny.
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Eleven years mischiefs, tumults and rage,
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Are the only memorials, of this Common-wealths age,
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And all to be thank't, be Hazilrigg the sage,
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Which nobody can deny.
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Let our Liberty-keepers be chang'd to Restorer
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Let our Peace carry Truth and Duty before her,
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He's a Fool and a Knave that else will adore her,
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Which nobody can deny.
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This Janus like Freedom, though it please not us all
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And aversly doth look on the Scepter and Ball
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Will shut up its Temple at next Common-Hall,
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Which nobody can deny.
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Then lets pray to Great Jove, that made Monck so kind,
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To our desperate Estate, to put him in mind,
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With the rest of our Worthies, of the Great Thing behind,
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Which nobody can deny.
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