The Loyal Subjects exultation, for the Coronation of King Charls the Second.

To the Tune of, When the King comes home in Peace again.
[figure]
WHat Writers could Prognosticate
Concerning Englands happy fate?
Lilly (I think) had little wit
That night his threshold was besh it,
his Almanacks told
King Charls never should
Return to rule on English ground,
but Lilly's a Lyer,
like the Devil his Sire,
For now our Soveraign Charls is crown'd.
What's now become of Lamberts power,
Alas bée's Prisoner in the Tower:
Better days will now ensue,
Than ever yet poor England knew.
then well may we sing
for joy of our King,
And in good Sack our sorrows drown'd
for Charls is return'd,
and the old Rump's burn'd,
And now our Soveraign Charls is crown'd.
Well may our hearts with jey abound,
He that was twelve years lost is found,
And they that once were in his Pallace,
Have made their beds under the Gallows,
for Iustice thought good,
that such as thrist for blood,
Should under go deaths cruel wound,
and after did bring
a Crown to the King,
For now our Soveraign Charls, &c.
We saw a change on every side,
The Rump reviv'd when Cromwel dy'd.
And that Protector puppy Dick,
They from his Highnesse soon did kick.
and down from her Throne,
they tumbled old Joan,
Whereby her grief did much abound,
for a General stout
turn'd them also out,
And now our Royal King is crown'd.

The second part,

to the same Tune.
[figure]
ENgland was but a senslesse trunck,
Untill she was restor'd by Monck,
Who in despight of Rump and Souldiers,
Hath set her head upon her Shoulders.
where long let it stand
to rule and command
And be throughout the world renown'd
let all honest men,
say Amen, and Amen,
For now our Soveraign Charls is crown'd.
Welcome, welcome, happy light,
The Sun ne'r saw a braver sight,
Solomon was a wise Prince
The like till now, was ne'r known since,
let all tongues with joy
cry Vive le roy,
And cast their Caps upon the ground
let him ever be sad
that now is not glad,
When as our Soveraign, &c.
The Serving-man of Mistresse Lane,
Is now our Lord and Soveraign,
He that stood by the kitchin fire
Is now advanc'd a little higher,
though skill he did lack
to wind up the Iack,
Yet wisdome in his heart was found,
and Traitors must know
though they then brought him low,
That now most gloriously hee's crown'd.
Sée how the loyal hearts prepare
Their stately shows and Pageants rare
The wéeping Conduits now combine
To turn their water into wine,
and London appears
(though striken in years)
Iust like a Virgin fresh and gay,
such comfort a King
to his Subjects doth bring,
Upon his Coronation day.
Time was when we were stricken dumb,
We might not pray (thy Kingdome come)
But now a glorious time we sée,
The Gods rejoyce as well as wée,
the Nymphs of the floods,
and they of the woods
That wear the Livery of May,
the Birds of the ayre
their parts they did bear,
Upon his Coronation day.
Lord bless the King, and blast the hope
Of all false hearts that love the Pope,
And frustrate all the wicked plots
Of the Phanaticks and the Scots,
Oh may we increase
in Plenty and Peace
That after this blest time we may
in spight of all those
that have béen our foes,
See many another happy day.
FINIS.

London printed for F. Grove on Snow-hill.

Entred according to Order.

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