May it please Your MAJESTY,
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WE who were never yet at quiet,
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Lovers of CHANGE, DISORDER, RIOT,
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Old Sticklers for a COMMON-WEALTH,
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(If you believe us) wish you Health,
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A long, a safe, a prosperous Reign;
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(The wicked Tories think we feign:)
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We who all Monarchy despise,
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Hope to find Favour in your Eyes;
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Think you a Protestant so hearty
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As not to Disoblige our PARTY,
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And humbly beg at any Rate
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To be CHIEF MINISTERS OF STATE,
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Or else your Person we shall hate:
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For tho' Religion bears the name,
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It's GOVERNMENT is all our Aim.
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We'll be as Faithful and as Just
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As to your Uncle, Charles the First:
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Grant this Request, your Cause we'll own,
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And ease the Burthen of the Crown;
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Make it the Easiest e'er was worn,
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You'll scarcely know you've any on.
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But if (Great SIR,) we find you slight us,
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Ourselves can tell which way to Right us;
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And let you know, by sad Disasters,
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Tho' you are Lord, yet we are Masters.
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This Truth you cannot chuse but know,
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We prov'd it sixty Years ago;
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Yet shall you find us now on Tryal,
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Your faithfull Subjects, OR WE LYE ALL.
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