The liberty of the imprisoned Royalist. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A88611 of text R201688 in the English Short Title Catalog (Thomason E398_12). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 11 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 5 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A88611 Wing L3239A Thomason E398_12 ESTC R201688 99862188 99862188 114339 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A88611) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 114339) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 63:E398[12]) The liberty of the imprisoned Royalist. Lovelace, Richard, 1618-1658. 8 p. s.n., [London : 1647] Sometimes attributed to Richard Lovelace. Caption title. Imprint from Wing. In verse. Includes two other poems: "Vpon his Majesties coming to Holmby" and "A panegyrick faithfully representing the proceedings of the Parliament at Westminster, ..". Trimmed at foot, affecting Thomason annotation. Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. A88611 R201688 (Thomason E398_12). civilwar no The liberty of the imprisoned Royalist.: Lovelace, Richard 1647 1575 9 0 0 0 0 0 57 D The rate of 57 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the D category of texts with between 35 and 100 defects per 10,000 words. 2007-02 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2007-03 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2007-04 Jonathan Blaney Sampled and proofread 2007-04 Jonathan Blaney Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion The Liberty of the Imprisoned ROYALIST . BEat on proud Billows , Boreas blow , Swell curled waves high as Ioves roofe , Your incivility shall know That innocence is Tempest proofe . Though surely Nereus roare my thoughts are calme , Then strike affliction , for thy wounds are Balme . That which the world miscalls a Iayle , A private closset is to me , Whilst a good conscience is my baile , And Innocence my Libertie . Locks , Barrs , Walls , Leannesse , though together met , Make me no prisoner , but an Anchorite . I whilst I wisht to be retir'd , Into this private roome was turn'd , As if their wisdome had conspir'd , A Salamander should be burn'd ; And like a Sophie who would drownd a fish , I am condemnd to suffer what I wish . The Cynick huggs his poverty , The Pellican his willdernesse , And 't is the Indians pride to be , Naked on frozen Caucasus . Contentment cannot smart , Stoicks wee see , Make torments easie by their Apathie . These Manacles upon my arme , I as my Sweet-hearts favour weare ; And then to keep my anckles warme , I have some iron shack's there : These walls are but my Garrison , this Cell Which men call jaile doth prove my Cittadell . Soe he that stroke at Jasons life , Thinking h'ad made his purpose sure , By a malitious freindly kn●fe , Did only wound him to a cure . Malice I see wants will for what is meant Mischief , oftimes proves favour in th' event . Here sin for want of food doth sterve , Where temp●ing obiects are not seene : And those strong Walls doe only serve To keep vice out not let sin in . Malice of late 's growne charitable sure , I 'me not committed , but am kept secure . I 'me in this Cabinet lockt up , As some high prized Margarit , And like some great Magull or Pope , Am cloystered up from publike sight . Retir'dnesse is a point of Majestie - And thus proud Sultan I 'me as great as thee . When once my Prince affliction hath , Prosperity doth Treason seeme , And then to smooth so rough a path I can learne patience too from him . Now not to suffer shews no loyall heart , When Kings want ease Subjects must learne to smart , What though I cannot see my King , Either in 's person or his coine ; Yet contemplation is a thing , Which renders what I have not mine : My prince from me what Adamant can part , Whom I doe wear engraven on my heart . My soule is free as Ambient Aire , Although my baser parts be mu'd , Whilst loyall thoughts doe still rejoyce , To company my solittude . And though Rebellion may my bodie bind , My King can only captivate my mind . Have you not seene the Nightingale When turn'd a Pilgrim in her Cage , And heare her tell her wonted tale , In that her Hermitage Even her chirping melodie doth prove , That all her barrs are trees , her cage a groue . I am the bird whom they combine , Thus to deprive of libertie , Who though they doe my corps confine , Yet maugre hate my soul is free . And though I 'me mu'd , yet I can chirp and sing , Disgrace to Rebells , Glory to my King . Vive le Roy . FINIS . Vpon his MAJESTIES Coming to HOLMBY . HOld our brave Charles , and thou shalt winne the feild , Thou canst not loose thy selfe , unlesse thou yeeld , On such conditions , as will force thy hand , To give away thy Scepter , Crown , and Land , And what is worse to hazzard by thy fall , To loose a greater Crowne , more worth then all . Thy poore distressed Cavaliers rejoyced To heare thy royall resol●tion voiced , And are content yet farre more poore to be , Then now they are , so it reflect from thee , Thou art our Soveraigne still in spight of hate , Our zeale is to thy person not thy state . We are not so ambitious to desire , Our drooping fortune to be mounted higher , And thou so great a Monarch ( to our greife ) Must sue vnto thy subiects for releife , And when they sit and long debate about it , Must either stay , or goe away without it . No sacred Prince , thy freinds esteeme thee more In thy distresses then they did before , And though their wings be clipt their wishes fly To heaven by millions for a fresh supply , That as thy cause was thus betrai'd by men , It may by Ange●s be restor'd againe . A PANEGYRICK , Faithfully representing The proceedings of the PARLIAMENT at Westminster , since their first Sessions to this present : Wherein their wonderfull Acts are truely declared ; And what is further by them to be expected . MOst gracious , Omnipotent , And everlasting Parliament , Whose power and Majestie Is greater then all Kings by odds ; Yea to account you lesse then Gods , Must needs be blasphemy . Moses and Aaron ne're did doe More wonders then are wrought by you For Englands Israel : But through the Red-Sea we have past , If you to Canaan bring's at last , Is 't not a miracle ? In six years space you have done more Then all our Parliaments before : You have quite done the work : The Cavaliers , the King , the Pope , You have o'rethrowne , and next we hope You will confound the Turke . The heads of Strafford , and of Laud , You did cut off because by fraud They would have made you slaves : But sure you are ten times more iust , Who Carew and the Hotham's trust , For they are arrant knaves . By you we have deliverance , From the desig●s of Spaine and France , Ormond , Montrosse , and Danes : Y●u aided by our Brethren Scots , Defeated have malignants plots , And brought their swords to Canes . What wholsome Laws have you ordain'd , Wherby out Properties , maintain'd 'gainst those would us undoe Yea both our fortunes and our lives , And what is dearer ee'n our wives , Are wholly kept by you . O what a flourishing Church and State Have we enjoy'd ere since you sate ? What a glorious King God save him , Have you now made his Majestie , Had he the grace but to comply And doe as you would have him ? When Hell was not enough to fright And m●ke the r●yall party right , You wisely did invent That dreadfull Tophet , Goldsmiths-hall , And Committees worse then Devill and all For their full punishment . Your Directory how to pray By th' Spirit shews the perfect way ; In zeale you have abolisht That Dagon of the Common-prayer ; And next we see you will take care That Churches be demolisht . What multitudes in every Trade Of painfull preachers you have made , Learned by revelation : Oxford and Cambridge make poore Preachers , Each Shop affordeth better Teachers ; Oh blessed Reformation ? Your godly wisdomes have found out The true Religion without doubt : For sure among so many , ( We have five hundred at the least , Is not the Gospell well encreast ▪ ) One must be pure , if any . Could you have done more piously , Then sell Church-lands the King to buy , And stop the City plaints ? Paying the Sects Church-Militant , That the new Gospell help to plant , God knows they are poore Saints . Because th'Apostles Creed is lame , Th' Assembly doe a better frame , Which saves us all with ease : Provided still we have the grace To beleeve th' two houses i' th' first place : Let our works be what they please . 'T is strange your pow'r and holinesse Can't th' Irish Devill dispossesse His kind is very stout . That though you doe so often pray , And every Moneth keep Fasting-day , You cannot get him out Who will not pay with all his heart Excise ? the fifth and twentieth part , Assessments , Taxes , Rates , 'T is easy what both Houses leavy , Our duties to our King are heavy , But all we have's the States , For all your sufferings and your pains , What in the end shall be your gains , You never did regard ; Some twenty thousand pounds a man , An Office too alas who can Think that a fit reward ? Wherefore as soone as you 're dissolv'd , To shew our thanks we are resolv'd , The King himself engages , Another Parliament to call , Which your deserts consider shall , And surely pay your wages . FINIS .