London in the Time of the Tudors

Name: London in the Time of the Tudors
Author: Besant, Walter

Besant, Walter

London (England); London (England) -- History

The Great _Tyrone_ that did so oft embrew
  _Ireland_ with Blood, and Popish Plots Renew.
  Here vanquisht Swears upon his bended Knee
  To the Queens Deputy fidelity
  Yet breaks that vow, and loaded with the Guilt
  Of perjuries and Blood which he had spilt.
    Being forc’d at last to fly his Native Land,
    Carries in’s Breast a sting, a Scourge in’s _hand_.

                  _Figure 15._

  No Sooner _James_ had blest the English Throne,
  But Traiterous Priests Conspire to pull him down.
  _Watson_ the poisonous Maximes does Instill,
  And draws some Nobles to Join in the Ill:
  But Princes then appear the most divine,
  When they with unexpected Mercy Shine.
    Just as the Fatal Ax attempts the Stroke,
    Pardon steps in and does the Blow Revoke

                  _Figure 16._

  In this Curs’d Powder-plot we plainly see
  The Quintessence of Romish Cruelty
  King Lords and Commons at one Hellish Blast
  Had been destroy’d, and half our Land laid wast,
  See _Faux_ with his dark Lanthorn ready stands
  To Light the fatal Train with desperate hands,
    But Heavens All-seeing eye defeats their desire,
    And saves us as a Brand snatcht from the fire;

         •       •       •       •       •

  And now let us, with chearful Hymns of praise,
  And Hearts inflamed with love _an Altar_ raise
  Of Gratitude to God, who doth advance
  His out-streatcht Arm in our Deliverance,
  Tis only He, that doth protect his Sheep,
  Tis he alone doth this poor Island keep
  from Romish _Wolves_, which would us soon devour,
  If not Defended by his mighty power
  Tis he that doth our _Church_ with freedome Crown,
  And beats the Popish _Superstitions_ down
  Under her _feet_, and may they never rise,
  Nor in vile _Darkness_ Reinvolve our Eyes;
  Since Heaven whose mercies ever are most tender
  Hath both restor’d our _faith_ and Faiths _Defender_

         •       •       •       •       •

  Let us to both a strict Adherence pay,
  And for their _preservation_ ever pray.
    Since thus _Truths_ happy _Bark_ hath reach’d our shore,
    O may it _never, never_ Leaves us more.

  Sold by _John Garret_ at his Shop, at the _Exchange-Staires_
  in _Cornhill_ where you may have choice
  of all Sorts of Large and Small Maps: Drawing
  Books, Coppy books, and Pictures for Gentlewomens
  works; and also very good originals
  of French and Dutch Prints.
]

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

London in the Time of the TudorsBesant, Walter

History

London in the Time of the Tudors

Besant, Walter

London (England); London (England) -- History

The Great _Tyrone_ that did so oft embrew
  _Ireland_ with Blood, and Popish Plots Renew.
  Here vanquisht Swears upon his bended Knee
  To the Queens Deputy fidelity
  Yet breaks that vow, and loaded with the Guilt
  Of perjuries and Blood which he had spilt.
    Being forc’d at last to fly his Native Land,
    Carries in’s Breast a sting, a Scourge in’s _hand_.

                  _Figure 15._

  No Sooner _James_ had blest the English Throne,
  But Traiterous Priests Conspire to pull him down.
  _Watson_ the poisonous Maximes does Instill,
  And draws some Nobles to Join in the Ill:
  But Princes then appear the most divine,
  When they with unexpected Mercy Shine.
    Just as the Fatal Ax attempts the Stroke,
    Pardon steps in and does the Blow Revoke

                  _Figure 16._

  In this Curs’d Powder-plot we plainly see
  The Quintessence of Romish Cruelty
  King Lords and Commons at one Hellish Blast
  Had been destroy’d, and half our Land laid wast,
  See _Faux_ with his dark Lanthorn ready stands
  To Light the fatal Train with desperate hands,
    But Heavens All-seeing eye defeats their desire,
    And saves us as a Brand snatcht from the fire;

         •       •       •       •       •

  And now let us, with chearful Hymns of praise,
  And Hearts inflamed with love _an Altar_ raise
  Of Gratitude to God, who doth advance
  His out-streatcht Arm in our Deliverance,
  Tis only He, that doth protect his Sheep,
  Tis he alone doth this poor Island keep
  from Romish _Wolves_, which would us soon devour,
  If not Defended by his mighty power
  Tis he that doth our _Church_ with freedome Crown,
  And beats the Popish _Superstitions_ down
  Under her _feet_, and may they never rise,
  Nor in vile _Darkness_ Reinvolve our Eyes;
  Since Heaven whose mercies ever are most tender
  Hath both restor’d our _faith_ and Faiths _Defender_

         •       •       •       •       •

  Let us to both a strict Adherence pay,
  And for their _preservation_ ever pray.
    Since thus _Truths_ happy _Bark_ hath reach’d our shore,
    O may it _never, never_ Leaves us more.

  Sold by _John Garret_ at his Shop, at the _Exchange-Staires_
  in _Cornhill_ where you may have choice
  of all Sorts of Large and Small Maps: Drawing
  Books, Coppy books, and Pictures for Gentlewomens
  works; and also very good originals
  of French and Dutch Prints.
]

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

London in the Time of the Tudors

London in the Time of the Tudors

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