FESTA GEORGIANA, OR THE Gentries & Countries Joy FOR THE CORONATION OF THE KING, ON St. GEORGES DAY.
—Quis non laetabitur?—
LONDON, Printed in the Year MDCLXI.
FESTA GEORGIANA, OR THE Gentries and Countries Joy, &c.
I.
BEloved Albion, Happy Soile,
The eye of Islands, Fairest Land,
Who plac'd by careful Nature so dost stand,
Thy fertile plaines do scarce require a Toile.
Darling of Neptune, and the Seas,
Whose waves do seem themselves to please
When billowing in their unevened Ranks
They gladly come to kisse thy fruitful banks;
And joyful they may be
Honour'd in serving thee,
Thy Ships like numerous mountains may
Dance on their waves, & on their billows play.
Whilst the Caerulean god protects them from all harmes,
And stor'd with Gold returnes them with full tides into thine Armes.
II.
Happy in every thing that may
Enrich, or make a Kingdome blest,
Fully replenish'd with all goods, the best,
But yet most happy in this glorious day:
This day, (the sum of all our joyes)
For without it they all were toyes,
Fancies Chimaera's, we could only boast,
The Gods had sent their bounties to our Coast;
But would not now they were at hand
Permit, or suffer them to land;
As if they had a mind to show
Their blessings to us, but still let us know,
That though they showred them, down with a plenteous hand,
Until confirm'd by this dayes work, they were at their command.
III.
But now the Seal is past, and they
Made sure to us, the writings sound
And we may safely say, the gods are bound
Still to continue them whilst we obey:
Our happinesse lies in our will,
Nor can we ever lose it, till
We first break Covenants, and so once more
Render our selves more wretched then before.
But that's a foolish Tennant sure,
Who having once made forfeiture
Of's Lease, when by the Courtesie
Of his good Land-lord, it restor'd shall be,
VVill desperately adventure for to break his bonds, forget
The kindnesse, and a forfeit make again of that and it.
IV.
VVorthy St. George, Heroick Knight,
Mirror of valour, for which more
Shall we thy blessed Memory adore,
That with the Dragon thou maintain'dst a fight,
And didst the beauteous Virgin save,
VVho trembling stood to meet her grave,
Expecting when her Corps should be made guest,
And lodg'd within the jawes of the fierce beast;
Or shall we Celebrate thy fame
That on thy day, and
George Monck.
by thy name,VVe freed are from a beast more fell,
Than three-headed monstrous Beast of hell:
For on this day is fully quell'd a Dragon, who did stand,
Not ready to devoure a maid, but this whole flourishing Land.
V.
No more shall Traiterous Villains now
Such fond and foolish reasons bring,
To justifie Rebellion 'gainst their King,
'Cause yet the Crown had not enchas'd his brow
Such fiery Dragons now shall feel,
St. George can brandish still his steel;
And that the strong endeavours all are vain
Of those would snatch us from our joyes again.
How would the gratefull Romans strive,
To make the memory to live,
Of such a Saint, how would they build
Him Altars, and due Adoration yield!
But if we do deny him that, let's not do this I pray,
That though we Deifie not the Saint, let's Canonize the day.
VI.
A day that needs no outward show
To make it glorious, for within
Our hearts should Pageants of joy be seen,
They are the sacrifices which we owe
To such transcendent good, and blisse,
To such surpassing joy as this.
What need the Citizens such fabricks rear,
As if they'd make them touch the very sphear,
As if they would the starres out vie,
And make St. Pauls Church not seem high.
'Twould be far better, could they boast
They sacrific'd their loves, and not their cost:
But we'el not blame them, since such is their joy, they can't with hold,
To offer up to it, the god they most adore, their gold.
VII.
Let them think so, they 'ave done their parts,
Wee'l strive their offering to out do
Though not so rich, our victimes are more true;
They offer drosse, we put up loyal hearts:
Hearts which arm'd with Royal love,
Still shall soare, and mount above
All their vast Pyramids, and high built toyes,
And there rest fix'd for to confirme our joyes:
Whilst the Trophees of their cost,
Will not last six months at most,
But must down; Our Loyalty
Wee'l propagate unto eternity,
And make the envions Sun too soon shrink in his head above,
To see he must withdraw his beames, e're we withdraw our love.
VIII.
Nor will we be wanting still,
To expresse our outward full content,
Though heaven to us the blessings have not sent,
To do like them, what we can do we will.
Though we can't such Monuments raise,
But the wonder of nine dayes,
Wee'l raise our voices three notes higher, sing
Carols of joy to Glorious Charles our King.
And thus wee'l every year renew
Those sports shall make our joys still new
Freely chant our thoughts, not cares,
Invent no plots, nor study jealous feares:
Strive to make those our Counsellors, who do no goodnesse own,
And but for faction and schism had never yet been known.
IX.
Our mirth shall harmlesse be, yet free,
Mix'd both with love and Loyalty
Wee'l live as if the golden age were now
Return'd, and with the Crown on Charles his brow:
All thoughts of mischief were exil'd,
Those dayes return'd when we beguil'd
Our time with harmlesse mirth, before the paines
Rebellion brings, were crept into our veines,
Before that May poles were thought gods,
Or King and Parliament at ods.
Before Lawn sleeves were judg'd unholy,
Before 'twas thought a sin to seem but jolly;
Before we run our selves into that deep abysse of shame,
And by overthrowing Church and State, Murdring our Sovereign.
X.
This is true mirth, will make us blest;
Thus wee'l enjoy our selves, no fears
Of innovations shall disturb our rest,
Or headlong set's together by the eares:
Wee'l blessed live in innocence,
Religion shall be no pretence
For Rebels, wee'l not credit Presbyt'ry,
'Cause we already know't so grosse a lye.
Our Loyalty shall be our guard,
By that all mischiefs shall be bar'd
From breaking in, for to annoy,
Or in the least disturb our well fix'd joy.
Plenty and riches too shall flow, while we enjoy our King,
Allegiance and Obedience 'tis, will peace and plenty bring.
XI.
Wee'l laugh at those fond fools who do
Think harmlesse mirth to be a sin,
Believe their outward purity but a gin
To draw us to those mischiefs we must rue.
The Rochet and three corner'd Cap,
Shall be no more a Puritan trap
To drive us from our duty, wee'l believe
No longer there's a Dee'le in a Lawne sleeve.
The High Commission shall not fright us,
Alas! they cannot there indite us,
'Twas made for them whose purity
Seducing snares are, to catch others by.
Whilst in a doleful tone, Sternehold and Hopkins they disgorge,
Wee'l to the merry Organs sing Hymns to the brave St. George.
XII.
To brave St. George, whose happy day
Thus puts an end to all our woe,
Our merry songs, our joyful hearts shall show,
Not in dull straines, for ever and for aye;
No our inspired souls shall stretch
Out Paeans 'bove the Muses reach.
Phaebus to yield his harp to us shan't grudge,
Were not dull Midas, but skil'd Orpheus Judge:
And yet our Songs shall something teach
Not such as Presbyterians preach,
Invectives, but more Loyal straines,
The Products of the Sack flows in our veines:
That cleares our bloud, and makes it good, and that shall teach us sing,
With tides of joy, exalted notes to our new Crowned King.
SONG.
I.
REjoyce, Rejoyce,
Strain, strain your voice,
A note or two yet higher,
Let the Bells loud ring,
Whilst we merrily sing,
More sweet than the heavenly quire.
Our Woes are all past,
For they could not long last,
To vex and torment us more,
Our joyes are made sure,
And will now endure
More certain than ever before.
Then let us be merry, and drink full cups round
For to day, for to day, for to day our King's Crown'd.
2.
By so much the more
Were our sorrows before,
By so much our joy shall be greater,
Though our griefs did long last,
Yet now they are past,
Our pleasures will be but the sweeter.
We may sing and carowse,
We may drink, we may bowse,
So still we continue but loyal,
Those blessings which before
Were deny'd us, we now more
Will enjoy, for our plagues were our tryal.
Then let us be merry, and drink full cups round,
For to day, for to day, for to day our Kings Crown'd.
3.
To St. George we will drink,
To St. George we will skink,
And offer whole quarts of Canary,
Wee'l clear our hoarse throats,
And strike up our notes,
And make the whole world to be merry.
Wee'l faction forswear,
And all Rebels Laws dare,
For he needs must be loyal that's jolly,
When the Devil first gave birth
To Rebellion on earth,
The Midwife was Melancholy.
Then let us be merry, and drink full cups round,
For to day, for to day, for to day our King's Crown'd.
4.
Who a health doth refuse,
Like the race of the Jews,
Let him prove both a scandal and scorn,
Let his Memory rot,
And his Name be forgot,
As if he had never been born.
'Tis your merry, merry soules
Who take freely their bowles,
That still are as constant as fate,
Whilst your dull-beaded sots
Are construing of plots
To ruine the Church and the State.
Then let us be merry, and drink full cups round,
For to day, for to day, for to day, our King's Crown'd.
XIII.
Thus in free jollity wee'l flow,
And yet not surfet in our joyes,
A moderation's good, to much annoys,
How far to passe, and where to stop we know;
The best of all things are made worse
Gorrupted; blessings may be made a curse,
No surfet's good, but the excesse of things
We love, the worst of all diseases brings.
All things should have their time, though now
We joy at heavens smiling brow,
Yet wee'l not spend our joyes unto a dearth,
Lest their decease should be our sorrows birth;
We can convert our smiles to teares, and make it our due cares
To pray, since God hath blest us thus, that still he'd hear our prayers.
XIV.
Wee'l pray, that as our King is Crown'd
So he may reign for ever, no hard fate
Put Period to his Life, our blessings date,
That as in Crownes, he may in good abound:
That no Puritan tricks may move
Subjects from his, him from their love:
That no Rebellion may disturb his ease,
Or break this Kingdomes but new-setled peace:
That both belov'd and fear'd, he like a god
On Earth, may live lov'd here, and fear'd abroad:
That we may happy live, to see
Brave Royal branches of this Princely tree:
That as a George restor'd his Crown, the same George may advance,
The Conquering St. Georges Crosse, into the heart of France.
FINIS.