AN EXIT TO THE EXIT TYRANNUS: OR, Upon Erasing that Ignominious and Scandalous Motto, which was set over the place where KING CHARLES the First Statue stood, in the Royall Exchange, LONDON.

To the Tune of I made a Voyage into France, &c.
AFter curs'd Traitors damned rage
At length is come that happy age
Wherein our hopes are crown'd,
Our griefes are turn'd to joyes, and all
Our miseries and sorrowes shall
Be in Canary drown'd.
Thrice happy night which black as thee
Hast caus'd that Hell black doom to be
Made by a Tyrant Crew,
When to fulfill the Divellish lust
They'd make it seem both good and just
That they their Soveraigne slew.
'Twas not enough with them to draw
Their Sword against the KING and Law
To Rob and Steale and Plunder,
'Twas not enough to act all Treason
Pretending still religious reason
This was in them no wonder.
'Twas not enough they had destroy'd
Our KING, to make our name abroad
A mock and scorn to be,
But to adde further to our shame
At home they blast his glorious name
With markes of Tyranny.
Curst Generation of Hams tribe
Their wickednesse to him ascribe
And seek his fame to taint,
Of whom it justly might be cride
He was a Martyr when he di'd
And whilst he lived a Saint.
To palliate their seditious acts
They charge him with those odious facts
Which they themselves commit,
And 'cause they had by their own fault
Both Church and State to ruine brought
He must be cause of it.
Exit Tyrannus up they set
As if the Kingdome then did get
By this their Liberty,
When as indeed from this their crime
The Nation well might date the time
Of reall Tiranny.
We since have found their zealous tones
Have caus'd our true and reall grones
We see their Good old Cause,
Was only made for a pretence
To banish all our freedome hence
And overthrow our Lawes.
Oh CHARLES that Exit which they put
Up ore thy Statues Head was but
An entrance to our Woe,
That fatall Axe which thee divorc'd
From us, our happinesse hath forc'd
Into the Grave to goe.
But bless'd be Providence that we
This happy Night have liv'd to see
Wherein for all their spight,
We see some hope that at the length
The Kingdome may recover strength
And thou regaine thy right.
Thy fame no more shall be defac'd
But with these glorious titles grac'd
Which are due to thy merit,
Nor shall the babling Rout now dare
To exclaime against thee in their prayer
Or curse thee by the spirit.
Nor is't our happinesse alone
Thy disgrace is wip't out o'th stone
But does proceed yet farther,
Brave Monk has given an exeunt too
To those these Nations did undoe
And did commit thy murder.
Goe on brave George, and as before
Our Nation to her right restore
Call in the lawfull heyre,
Speake but an entrance to our KING,
And none but will thy praises sing
And blesse thee in their prayer.

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.