Poems on affairs of state from the time of Oliver Cromwell, to the abdication of K. James the Second. Written by the greatest wits of the age. Viz. Duke of Buckingham, Earl of Rochester, Lord Bu-------st, Sir John Denham, Andrew Marvell, Esq; Mr. Milton, Mr. Dryden, Mr. Sprat, Mr. Waller. Mr. Ayloffe, &c. With some miscellany poems by the same: most whereof never before printed. Now carefully examined with the originals, and published without any castration.

The Impartial Trimmer. 1682.

SInce there are some that with me see the state Of this declining Isle, and mourn its fate; French Councellors and Whores, French Education, Have chang'd our Natures, and enslav'd our Nation: There was a time when Barons boldly stood, And spent their Lives for their dear Countries good; Confim'd our Charter, with a Curse to light On those that shou'd destroy that sacred Right, Which Power with Freedom can so well unite, The hated name of Rebel is not due To him that is to Law and Justice true.

Brutus bold part may justly claim Renown, Preferring Right to Friendship and a Crown; For 'twas not Treason then to keep our own. But now the Nation with unusual need Cries help, where is our bold, our English Breed? Popery and Slavery are just at hand, And every Patriot is a S—d. Shaftsbury's gone, another Change to try; He hates his Word, yet more the Monarchy. No Head remains our Loyal Cause to grace, For Monmouth is too weak for that high Place: More proper for the Court where he was rais'd, His Dancing envy'd, and his Dressing prais'd, Where still such Folly is so well protected, Those few that han't it are oblig••d t' affect it; For Statesmen, King, and Whore, and all have sworn T'advance such Wit and Virtue as their own: Degenerate Rome and Spain deserves to out-brave us, If Hide or Hallifax can e'er enslave us; Or he that kneels 'twixt his Dogs and Whore, Rul'd by a Woman, he can use no more; Whispers with Knaves, and Jests all day with Fools, Is chid to Counsel like a Boy to School. False to Mankind, and true to him alone. Whose Treason still attempts his Life and Crown. Rouse up and cry, No Slavery, no York And free your King from that devouring ••••ork; Tho' lull'd with Ease and Safety he appear, And trusts the Reins to him he ought to fear. 'Tis Loyalty indeed to keep the Crown Upon a Head that would it self dethrone. This is the case of our unthinking Prince, Wheedled by Knaves, to rule 'gainst common Sense; That we provok'd our Wrongs to justi••••e, Might in his Reign his Brother's Title try. Live long then Charles, secure of those you dread, There's not five Whiggs that ever wish'd you dead,

For as old Men rarely of Gout complain, That Life prolongs, but sooths its wholsome pain. So we with as small cause (God knows) to boast, Bear much with you, rather than with him roast: For if a subject he such Terror bring, What may we hope from a revengefull King? Both lew'd and zealous, stubborn in his Nonsense, He'll sacrifice Mankind to ease his Conscience. O happy Venice, whose good Laws are such, No private Crime the publick Peace can touch. But we most wretched, while two Fools dispute, If Leg or Armstrong shall be absolute.