Nonne vides ut nudum remigio latus . Horat. Ode XIV, Lib.1
The safety of the king and's royal throne
Depends on those 500 kings alone,
Those under whom some say three kingdoms groan.
The Commons no new methods will assign
Of choosing kings. They know the royal line
Was wont to be reputed as divine.
Your Englishmen, who understand who gave
Their king his royal grandeur, scorn to have
His Majesty their general, their slave.
As frantic and outrageous as were
Their votes, they showed their vigilance and care,
And nought like those could dissipate our fear.
They are dissolved and with them all our hopes;
Prepare for Smithfield fires, for racks and ropes,
For that's the pleasing exercise of popes!
Now to create intestine broils what need
Is there? Of those experienced things take heed;
When th' state's blood's hot 'tis dangerous to bleed.
In all true hearts it would a love create
To see the supreme power dissipate
All pensioners, those spongers of our state.
The Commons' aims were but to regulate
Things shuffled out of place in church and state;
Not to cramp justice, but corroborate.
When they offend they justly feel the smart
Imposed on them by some ambitious heart,
Whose swollen envy breaks out like a fart.
But here's the mischief: they espouse the law,
Hate those who subjects from allegiance draw,
And of their royal master stand in awe.
We've grounds to hope when next they meet they'll bring
Wise counsels, grave proposals, ev'rything
Conducive to th' peace of people and king.
If so, we'll sing adieu to plots — in vain
Shall rogues attempt to shake our peace again,
And then great Charles most happily will reign.