C. R. In a Cloud.
IT is no strange thing
To heare that the King
Hath made his escapes;
For Jove did the same,
And got him a name
(For shifting and Rapes.)
What he did for Lust
(For Jupiter must
With a faire one sport.)
King Charles did not doe,
His Juno's no shrew,
Hée's not gone to Court.
No Danaes Power
In a Brazen Tower
Hath made him turn shower,
You know well of old
That he had no Gold,
C. R. was too poore.
Nor ever did low
For Europa-Cow,
And feed among Beasts,
Nor deceiv'd the Heards
In a Goatish Beard,
So quaint he was drest.
But he is retir'd,
As he was desir'd,
For sweet Liberty.
When every man claimes,
And makes her his aimes,
Won't you have Princes free?
Away with such Knaves,
Who Liberty craves,
For their owne pure traines
Yet would inviron
Their King, and in Iron
Binde him, and in chaines.
We have heard in a manner
Of the King and Tanner,
But the King was first:
But these Translators
Of the State-matters,
Make the King the worst.
Instead of a Crowne,
They'll pull him downe,
As not fit for trust;
Instead of God save,
His life they will have,
And's Honourith'dust.
Salt Peters, and Dell,
You have preached well
To your Auditory:
This Doctrine you may
Read in Loyola;
Here's a fine story.
Would any man thinke,
The Agitators drinke
Of the waters of Tiber?
Or that Babylons whore
Were Peters Paramour,
Or Dells next Neighbour?
Protestant God night,
Welcome Jesuite,
Welcome pretty Nuns,
Our Daughters shall be
Whores of Pietie,
And Rebells our Sons.
Charles keep in thy Cloud,
And there safe thee shrewd,
Nor break, but as Day.
The mid Region be
Thy Artillerie,
Where Clouds beare the sway.
Peep a little from thence,
And list to what sense
Wee make of thy Letters,
Every one doth think
That great Caesars Inke,
Never wrot better.
And as for the matter,
We cannot here flatter,
The Royall Inditer,
But say, as true 'tis,
Thy Pen (as was his)
Is of a ready Writer.
We're sorry to see,
That such Treacherie
Should be in our Land;
Or that any thing
Should force our good King
To his running hand,
His Letters he throwes,
Like Parthian Arrowes,
And Conquers flying.
Ten thousand are sold,
They 'll never be old.
New, new news they're crying.
D' you see, do you see,
How the Presbyterie
Joy their f [...]t named,
The Assembly men prinke
Up their Eares; I thinke
They were neare maimed.
But be not too cranke
In the second ranke,
The Independents
Will look to your waters,
And then follow after
Th' Army their defendents.
Satisfaction's next,
To his party perplext,
And gone to the Pot,
'Cause th' have adhered,
And are to be feared,
And even the Scot.
Now marke his Len voy,
And cry Vive-le-Roy;
Can any thinke so,
God will blesse those Peeres
Who refuse to heare
Their King? Surely no.
As hee's Royall to all,
So he Personall
Is honest, and just,
In his care you see
For deliverie
Of his Pictures in trust.
There's none but a King,
Could doe such a thing,
Who is Princely bent,
Truely to restore,
(Who can doe any more?
What the Ladies lend.
O most gallant Prince,
Whose free Conscience,
No euill shall clog,
He does Whaly beseech,
To send home the Grew Bitch,
Before he will jog.
And his deportment
Shewes afore he went,
Him a Gentleman much;
Who would not neglect
His civill respects
To Whaly and such.
So did he thinke fit,
Mountague to greet.
And's fellowes, whose fames
Were good, and discourses
And so were the horses,
He sent his sonne James.
His Letters all done,
Away he is gone,
And leaves these Papers.
To be read in the night,
(But not without light,)
For by them was Tapers.
Or if so before,
They broke up the doore,
To looke for C. R.
The Tapers went out,
In his Cloak without doubt.
There was a bright starre.
What wonders are here?
Yet we doe not feare,
High-minded and proud;
Nor our sinnes revoke,
Yet see Stars in a Cloak,
And Kings in a Cloud.
Now we're all at a gaze,
To discover which wayes
This Angell was gone,
Where more him attend,
God did his Guards send,
And ease those at Hampton.
God keep our C. R.
From Martin-King-marre,
And such evill sprights,
Who have late brought in
That cursed Doctrine,
With their new-found lights,
But thou blessed Isle,
That preservest a while
Thy King, be thou wise,
Doe not thou betray,
Nor open thy Bay,
Nor suffer surprize.
Our Isles shall be glad.
The Isle of Wight had
The keeping our Pan;
And England will be
In Unanimity.
As the Isle of one Man.
FINIS.
Printed in the Yeare MDCXLVII.