MAJESTIES Dissolving the late Parliament at Oxford, March 28. 1681.
AN Atheist now must a Monster be,
Of a strange Gigantick birth:
His Omnipotence do's let all men see,
That our King's a God on Earth.
Fiat, says he by Proclamation,
And the Parliament is created:
He repents of his work, the Dissolution
Makes all annihilated.
We Scholars were expell'd awhile,
To let the Senators in,
But they behav'd themselves, as
So we return agen:
And wonder to see our Geometry School
All round about beseated,
Though there's no need of an Euclid's rule,
To demonstrate 'em all defeated.
The Commons their Voting Problems would,
In Riddles so involve,
That what the Peers scarce understood,
The King was forc'd to solve.
The Commons for a good Omen chose,
An old consulting station:
Being glad to dispossess their Foes
O th' House of Convocation.
So States-men like poor Scholars be,
For near the usual place
They stood, we know, for a great Degree,
But the King deny'd their Grace.
Though sure he must his Reason give,
And charge them of some Crime:
Or else by course they'l have reprieve,
For this is the Third time.
It was because they did begin,
With insolent behaviour:
And who should expiate their Sin,
The King himself's no Saviour.
Their Faults grew to a bulk so high,
As Mercy did fore-stall:
So Charter forfeited thereby,
They must like Adam fall.
It is resolv'd the Duke shall fail,
A Scepter to inherit:
Nor right nor desert shall prevail,
'Tis Popish to plead Merit.
Let the King respect the Duke his Brother,
And keep affection still,
As duly to the Church his Mother:
In both they'l cross his will.
They would Dissenters harmless save,
And Penalties repeal:
As if they'd humor Thieves, who crave
A liberty to steal.
Thus he that do's a Pardon lack,
For Treason damn'd to dy,
They'd tempt, poor man, to save his neck,
By adding Perjury.
The Nobles threw th' Impeachment out,
Because, no doubt, they saw,
'Twas best to bring his cause about,
But not to th' Commons Law,
But hence 'twas plaguily suspected,
Nay 'tis resolv'd by Vote,
That the Lords are Popishly affected,
And stiflers of the Plot.
The Commons courage can't endure
To be affronted thus:
So for the future to be sure,
They'l be the Upper House.
But by such Fevorish Malady,
Their strength so soon was spent,
That punning Wits no doubt will cry,
Oh Weeked Parliament.
Printed in the Year, 1681.