Unfeigned Friendship,
OR,
The Loyalists Cordial Advice.
A pleasant New Playhouse Song, now greatly in Request.
Concord is that by which the world does move
Nor is the worlds Creator ought but love:
In those Mens happiness do chiefly rest,
And none without them ever yet was blest.
To a new Playhouse Tune, called, How happy's the State, or, Can Life be a Blessing, etc.
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HOw happy's the State where no discords are breeding
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No strife, nor debate, no cares too exceeding?
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Oh! there 'tis they'r blessed, of all things possessed,
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Oh! there they have happiness heap'd up in store;
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There's treasure, and pleasure, & joy beyond measure,
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So happy are they that need not no more.
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Why then shou'd fond mortals seek their own annoy,
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And open the Portals, themselves to destroy,
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To plague one another, and hate each his Brother,
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To banish the Father and ruine the Son,
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When treasure & pleasure wou'd flow beyond measure
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If concord it triumphed and discord was gone?
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If each in his station wou'd keep his right sphere,
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Then all our vexations wou'd soon disappear:
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Oh! then all confusion and all strong delusion.
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On th' wings of disorder with darkness wou'd dwell:
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Then pleasure, and treasure, and joys beyond measure
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Wou'd sorrows, and cares, and harsh discord expell.
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Then England be wise, and let Unity flourish,
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Let none be precise, their fond fancies to cherish;
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Thereby in their passion to trouble the Nation:
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For if with discretion each mortal wou'd move,
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Then treasure and pleasure wou'd flow beyond measure,
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Then all wou'd be peace, oh then all wou'd be love.
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If none wou'd stickle at the Oath of Allegiance,
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No, nor Conventicle to baulk their obedience,
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Nor at the Ceremonies where decency shown is
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Cavell and Carp, and yet give us no reason:
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Then pleasure and treasure wou'd flow beyond measure,
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And happy, thrice happy wou'd be the bless'd season.
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Then the Pope might despair and the Jesuites repine,
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For they nothing could share if we once did but joyn;
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If discord was vanish'd, and envy quite banish'd,
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Then happy, thrice happy a Nation were we,
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Then treasure and pleasure wou'd flow without measure,
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And all we cou'd wish we should instantly be.
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Then those golden days which the Poets once feigned,
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Might to our high praise once again be regained;
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For were we united our cares wou'd be slighted,
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Then happy, how happy should we live at ease!
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Then treasure and pleasure wou'd flow beyond measure,
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And we shou'd lye down in the vailes of sweet peace.
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With roses o'respread, and with lillies surrounded,
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Where with troubles our head shou'd ne'r be confounded,
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But still sweet repose with soft slumber shou'd close,
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Our eyes and our cares, and all that disturb us:
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The treasure and pleasure wou'd flow beyond measure,
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When nothing, when nothing remain'd as could curb us.
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Then at last be you Wise you Whiggs, and come over,
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There's nought you devise more content can discover;
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Be no more discontented, least 'tis repented
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When it is too late; and the time it is past;
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Whenas treasure & pleasure won't flow beyond measure
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For then all your hopes will be at the last cast.
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Then be not perverse, but let Unity flourish,
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Idle Dreams ne'r rehearse, nor wilfulness cherish,
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But be loyal, be loyal, and you'l defie all.
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That envy and malice does plot for your harm;
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Then treasure and pleasure will flow beyond measure:
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Obedience and Unity is the best charm.
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To secure us from strife, and all idle debate;
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Which, alas! are too rife amongst many of late:
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Then at last be you wise, and come take my advice,
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And make yourselves happy whilest time does remain,
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That treasure and pleasure may flow without measure,
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That Concord and Unity ever may Raign.
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