The Restoration

Ballad: A Country Song, Intituled The Restoration

Come, come away To the temple, and pray,
And sing with a pleasant strain;
The schismatick's dead, The liturgy's read,
The vicar is glad, The clerk is not sad,
And the parish cannot refrain
To leap and rejoyce
And lift up their voyce,
That the King enjoyes his own again.

The country doth bow
To old justices now,
That long aside have been lain;
The bishop's restored,
God is rightly adored,
And the King enjoyes his own again.

Committee-men fall,
And majors-generall,
No more doe those tyrants reign;
There's no sequestration,
Nor new decimation,
For the King enjoyes the sword again.

The scholar doth look
With joy on his book,
Tom whistles and plows amain;
Soldiers plunder no more
As they did heretofore,
For the King enjoyes the sword again.

The citizens trade,
The merchants do lade,
And send their ships into Spain;
No pirates at sea
To make them a prey,
For the King enjoyes the sword again.

The old man and boy,
The clergy and lay,
Their joyes cannot contain;
'Tis better than of late
With the Church and the State,
Now the King enjoyes the sword again.

Let's render our praise
For these happy dayes
To God and our sovereign;
Your drinking give ore,
Swear not as before,
For the King bears not the sword in vain.

Fanaticks, be quiet,
And keep a good diet,
To cure your crazy brain;
Throw off your disguise,
Go to church and be wise,
For the King bears not the sword in vain.

Let faction and pride
Be now laid aside,
That truth and peace may reign;
Let every one mend,
And there is an end,
For the King bears not the sword in vain.