Loyal poems and satyrs upon the times since the beginning of the Salamanca plot written by several hands ; collected by M.T.

THE RECOVERY.

YET once more Peace turns back her head to smile, And take some pitty on our stubborn Isle, She and her Sister Truth, now hand in hand, Return to Visit our forsaken Land, I see, I see! Oh Albion help the sight, TRUTH long eclips'd, lift up her Sacred Light, And chase away those obscene Birds of Night. Th' ill-boding Scritch-owl we so long did fear, Hovering above in our thicken'd Air, Whose fatal note was never heard, but Death Follow'd th' Infernal Evidencing Breath. Hail Lovely Truth! Oh spred thy Rays Divine, And let thy dawning Beams more fully shine, Already thy glad Inference we find, And all now see, but they who will be blind, They see whilst thou holds up thy guiding Light, The dangerous Errours of the former Night, A Night which all our Heaven did invade, By the Dire skill of State Magicians made. In a dark Cell the Wayward Brothers Met, Ith' midst there was a Chair for Satan set, Which in his absence— A little wither'd Conjurer supply'd, And all his Imps drank Venom from his side,

His word was (then he out his Tap did pluck.) Come my young Pugs of Treason, come and suck. This Hellish Rite perform'd to work they go, To raise up Darkness from the shades below, Thick Mists of popular fears, and Jealousies, Did at the Necromantick Call arise, And in black Clouds hid all the Brittish Skies. Here first their unskil'd Sp'rits their Visions play'd, And learn'd their Message to the Hatfield Maid, Here first were rais'd the wondring World to scare The Armies Harris muster'd in the Air. But now the Charms dissolv'd, and England free From the Enchantment does its madness see, Sees its vain fears of that expected Day, No Royal Bloud, stain'd the Fifteenth of May, Prevailing Truth has open'd Brittains Eyes, And Folly seen, begins to make her wise. Oh! Let us then unite, let Faction cease, Nor think Confusion is the way of Peace, That Schism must the Churches fall prevent. And breaking Laws, secure the Government, Let Traytors to expected Tryal come, And from the Mouth of Justice hear their Doom, Tis so, He's gon where Justice does maintain Her Seat in Peace, nor bears the Sword in vain, No Hackney speakers there o're Law prevail, To Conquer thee by telling of a tale, Nor Factious, nor guilty Lords appear, To blunt that Sword whose Edge they justly fear.

No Garter blew nor Star that Court can awe, That Star which did long since its Beams with draw, Nor at the Tryal can its Light dispence, To Cherish Treason with its Influence. Here all in vain strives Councellor and Lord, Where the Revenging Goddess speaks the word, Nor can Confession turn aside the Blow, From Criminals that own that they are so, Had this been done long since 't had sav'd the guilt Of so much Bloud so prodigally spilt, VVhile certain Villany did hurry hence, To unjust Death suspected Innocence. But Justice now is this Triumphant scene, Thy shame does end, and Triumph doth begin, All this to thy Defender Charles is due, Who now with the his Glorys does Renew, Already with fresh Beams the Crown does shine, Power Sacred grows, and Majesty Divine, His mighty Scepters in his hand held fast, Nor like a Deed is bent with every blast. Hold, hold Great Charles, this Resolution hold, And in thy own, and Countrys Cause be bold, Whatever of this mighty Body thou, The Head, Resolvest, we thy hands will do, Dare to be happy, and to make us so. How great is Majesty, and how August, How Godlike when 'tis Resolutely just? Then 'tis that willing Subjects gladly meet, To throw their Lives before their Monarchs Feet,

There 'tis their Fortunes they before him lay, Sue to be Rul'd and Glory to Obey, Such Charles is now thy State, and such the Train Of those that now petition thee to Reign, See ev'n thy Prodigal Son does now destre, To leave his Husk, and Swine, and Wapping mire, In which so long he wallow'd up and down. Known to each dirty Kennel in the Town. And to his Injur'd Father and his Lord, Wou'd by his much wrong'd Uncle be restor'd. How well have W—ms, Jones, and W—ton, B—ch, G—rd, T—by, their great Duty don? How have they taught the People to Repent Their Zeal for their great Idol Parliament, How have they shewn the Arbitrary Way That Monster took to make us all its Prey! They to loose all, claim'd more then was their Right, And stretch'd their Pow'r only to break it quite, These, these are they who have true Service done, Meriting their secret favours from the Crown, These, these have made a Dissolution be, Not VVisdom only, but Necessity. These thus remov'd our Jealousies and Fears, VVere ever such deserving Pensioners? Then Charles, since all things now conspire to bless Thy graceful Age with Conquest and success, Begin, Resolve, and venture to be great, Nor over-throw those vast designs of Fate. Begin at home, purge thine own house, and Free From Villains Tongues the Ears of Majesty.