A COUNTREY
SONG,
INTITULED,
THE RESTORATION.
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I.
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COme, come away,
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To the Temple and pray,
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And sing with a pleasant strain:
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The Schismatick's dead,
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The Liturgy's read,
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And the King enjoyes his own again.
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II.
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The Vicar is glad,
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The Clerk is not sad,
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And the Parish cannot refrain,
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To leap, and rejoyce,
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And lift up their voyce,
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That the King enjoyes his own again.
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III.
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The Countrey doth bow,
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To old Justices now,
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That long aside have been lain:
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The Bishop's restor'd,
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God is rightly ador'd,
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And the King enjoyes his own again.
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IV.
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Committee-men fall,
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And Majors Generall,
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No more doe those Tyrants reign:
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There's no Sequestration,
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Nor new Decimation:
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For the King enjoyes the Sword again.
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V.
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The Scholar doth look,
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With joy on his Book;
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Tom whistles and plows amain:
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Soldiers plunder no more,
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As they did heretofore:
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For the King enjoyes the Sword again.
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VI.
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The Citizens Trade,
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The Merchants do Lade,
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And send their Ships into Spain:
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No Pirates at Sea,
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To make them a prey,
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For the King enjoyes the Sword again.
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VII.
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The old Man and Boy,
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The Clergy and Lay,
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Their joyes cannot contain:
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better then of late,
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With the Church and the State,
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Now the King enjoyes the Sword again.
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VIII.
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Let's tender our praise,
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For these happy dayes,
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To God and our Soveraign:
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Your drinking give ore,
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Swear not as before:
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For the King bears not the Sword in vain.
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IX.
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Fanaticks be quiet,
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And keep a good Diet,
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To cure your crazy brain:
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Throw off your disguise,
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Go to Church and be wise;
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For the King bears not the Sword in vain.
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X.
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Let Faction and Pride,
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Be now laid aside,
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That Truth and Peace may reign:
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Let everyone mend,
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And there is an end,
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For the King bears not the Sword in vain.
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