ITUR Satyricum: IN loyal Stanza's.  
By John Collop, M. D.  
LONDON, Printed by T. M. for William Shears, and are to be sold at his Shop at the sign of the Bible in bendford-street near Covent-Garden, 1660.   

Itur Satyricum IN loyal Stanza's.  

ATheism away, twin to Rebellion hence,  
ABove fraud and force acquires, see, providence!  
Charl's the Church Gold, God's Image, see! returned  
Through all the fiery trials shines unburned.  
King's are God's Christ's; Charles Christ like doth appear  
For Reformation in His Thirtieth Year.  
The day which brought him forth, him in doth bring  
Gives both new life to th' people and the King.   

To our conversion now Rome lay no claim  
Monck, Austin, Patrick nor Palladius name;  
Three more than Pagan Nations now we see  
Can by a monk of ours Converted be.  
Nay your three, Spain, France, Italy, are out done  
Though every monk is there a Champion.  
One English monk hath here converted more,  
Than all your monks perverted heretofore.   

Spare Honest Heilin, spare thy learned pains  
To vindicate St. George from addle brains.  
We for our Champion now no Champion need,  
St. George for England wants no Roman Creed.  
This is the George, defeats the dragon's Sting;  
The Church relieves the daughter of the King.  
Could we with Calvin stories faith deny  
What he calls fable, we'd call prophecy.   

Make bonfires bigger, purge th' infected air,  
lest Treason like a Plague inhabit there.  
Rebellion's Witchcraft, Witchlike may't expire,  
And th' Land her sin thus expiate by fire.  
Nor must the Bells be wanting to the air;  
lest with their Prince schisms spirits wander there.  
While you your safety, and our Kings Proclaim,  
Churches no more we'll common places name.   

Flowers strew the way, with Charles was born the spring  
'twill flourish and return with him our King.  
I'th' Winter of his absence who lay dead,  
How the Gay butterflies in trow ps now spread?  
See! how the gaudy antics do appear,  
In masking liveries of the youthful year.  
None fear to spend all, but cry Charles is come.  
Charles is our all and all, to every sum.   

A Golden Age in Charles is sure foretold,  
Whose sight can change even City Chains to Gold.  
How they all glister, that it may appear,  
Safety like heaven is never bought to dear?  
At the Cits 〈◊〉 oft shall now be spilled no blood,  
But what's of Grape, which issuing by a flood  
From every Conduit, proclaims Charles divine,  
Who Saviour like, turns Water into Wine.   

Thousands half starved, by miracle seem fed,  
Charles by his presence multiplies their bread.  
The air, Sea, Land, all summoned tribute bring,  
T'acknowledge Charles an universal King.  
lest these to little be, descending spheres  
In musical treats seem to salute his ears.  
Propitious Stars in Charles his wain prevail,  
There's no sad influence from the dragon's tail.   

Glorious as Princes, if not Angels all?  
Who England's King will King of devils call.  
See! How to the Spaniard to Charles tribute pays,  
While each on's back, a petty Indie lais.  
Nor art thou less a tributary France,  
While these thy apes present a morris dance.  
Or is't an heavenly influence? the whose train,  
Thus sparkles to be Stars in Charles his wain.   

Yet see Great Charles not fit for vulgar eyes,  
Like to Divinity couched in mysteries!  
Nature hath seemed to place him in disguise,  
Whose inside glories all outsides outvies.  
Glories that lie no deeper than a skin,  
Are not for Princes, theirs must lie within,  
God his own Character doth on Princes Write,  
He robbed Divinity called God's shadow light.   

All characters are libels, who'd set forth  
Charles, is a traitor to impeach his worth:  
Since praises must fall short, expressions be  
But the faint shadows of divinity.  
Had not the church's Martyr great Charles shown,  
Himself by's Scripture, he had dy'd unknown.  
Now we a David read and Solomon  
Without their bad, all they had good in one.   

The Blood of Martyrs is the church's seed:  
'tis Charles his blood for th' Church must interceded.  
The heir of's virtues and his kingdoms be  
The world's reformer by a prophecy;  
No Pilsring Charles of Suevia, his glory  
Did only blaze to light us to thy story.  
Charles from Charles must be greatest of that name:  
They're gayer acts, but lacquey'fore his fame.   

Hail Charles the second; second unto none:  
The fifth falls short brought in comparison:  
Greater than Charles the first surnamed the great;  
The Pope of more than he him gave defeat:  
So the most Christian King, most Catholic too  
And Faiths Defender will all meet in you.  
Charles by the Grace of God thou'lt truly be,  
'tis merely God's Grace hath restored thee:   

How do the Branches of the royal Oak  
Now flourish, and ne'er fear the axes struck!  
Under Presbytery will these gay things truckle?  
From Lords the mighty twindle to the muckle?  
Sneak to the Commons, and there serve to show  
For their deserts no House can be to low.  
The Lords are grains to balance th' royal scale:  
If they prove light the Rabble must prevail.   

Who in the Church will parity introduce  
Shame in the State, pre-eminence out of use;  
The wiser Lords who Voted Bishops down,  
Cashiered th'less sacred titles of their own.  
Useless, and senseless, how should they not fall,  
Who had renounced their part spiritual.  
They their own fortunes fence about in vain,  
Who lay in common sacred and profane.   

May't in no Lord be treason to be wise?  
Nor th' beast the Rabble want a Sacrifice.  
May aged have Bristols young Lords, Bruce's parts:  
The loyal Cleveland's, brave Northampton's hearts;  
No Bedford's wanting be to th' council table;  
Strange faults in son and father to be able.  
So shall no Comets reared from fat of Earth  
Presage Kings ruin, or the people's dearth.   

May th' House of Commons be no juggler's box:  
The steeples not men's heads have weathercocks  
With every wind of fancy to turn round.  
Where all are giddy, how can truth be found?  
No Cock brained sciolists factions may promote  
Leave real truths on airy names to dote.  
So sacrilege no more shall privilege be:  
Nor to be slaves the people's liberty.   

May none by house of Commons understand  
The place and fare of those devour the Land.  
No Tax succeed a fast, first fast than prey:  
Not pray and fast; fasts make the stomachs way.  
A strange contrivance thus to gain a power  
Three Nations sat, by fasting to devour.  
Pray like the thief, a blessing on th' Vocation:  
Steal and give thanks for robbery of a Nation.   

May burghers mind the trade of Corporations,  
And make no more a traffic of three Nations.  
Nor their Elections be so numerous made  
Three Lands seem slaves to freemen of a Trade.  
Since here not wisdoms are, but voices weighed:  
Folly and Factions Votes must be obeyed.  
May they procure good laws, than Charles supply  
With that, he to his people is, a subsidy.   

May airy mysteries ne'er unhinge their pates,  
Should pry in mysteries of trade not states.  
The cause, the cause, hence fears, hence Jealousies,  
Who think Stars twinkle, 'tis their weaker eyes.  
May all have noble fears, fears to do ill:  
Be jealous too, least treason lurk there still.  
The Prince have fears, and Jealousies to intrust  
Those gratesy not reason but their lust.   

Barbarous as their own Latin, or Law French,  
No fee tongued Lawyer here on Laws entrench;  
Faction and treason mould in forms of Law:  
Prove th' lawyer's anagram true, that liars awe.  
May loyal Laws, late Common-place-Book's pains  
Receive no common place as loyal gains.  
For what is due on the disloyal score  
May he his own works read, and write no more.   

The proud Church sinned, the Vandal, Goeth, and Hun  
Angry heaven's scourges in the Scot o'errun  
The Bishops wore Lawn Sleeves, bless us! the Nun  
Doth make these Lawns they're works of Babylon,  
The Church is rich: how can an Achan hold  
From Babylonish garments and from Gold.  
But see the fruits! These with the Eagle snatch  
Coals from the Altar which their own nests catch.   

Lord from the Altar touch all with a coal  
Which to thy service may inflame the soul:  
None then shall Organs hate, all Organs be;  
Made instrumental in the serving thee.  
No nose tuned Parson th' Pulpit shall be labour  
With noise resembling the Scotch Pipe and Tabor.  
No pulpits shall vie tricks with Hocus Pocus  
Truths raise shall clear them, that no Scotch mist choke us.   

Scripture no more shall wracked be to profess  
Herself to all impiety patroness.  
To fall on times, no Priest shall leave his Text:  
First divide that, and then the people next.  
Cloaks for their Knavery now no pulpits need:  
Arms shall give place to Gowns, while errors bleed,  
The Militant Church with Charles went in exile,  
But now returns enriched with Egypt's spoil.   

No more shall Gypsies in religion be  
The statutes unrepeal'd, can these go free?  
The Canting Vagrants in opinions, doom  
Must Gipsy like to be with pass sent home.  
Send them to Italy; take them Florentine:  
By Nicks discourses they should all be thine,  
All Common wealth's men: ours was common wealth  
By knack of zeal an artificial Health.   

No Presbyterian shall run out of's wits,  
And introdu'ce again fanatic fits.  
By looser Prayers intitling to the sprite  
Out of their senses three whole Kingdoms fright.  
With hums, hah, whine, and a nose tuned story,  
Wry neck, screwed face, made for a Directory.  
God's name as oft in vain used as in charms,  
The People to be witch into all harms.   

With Jacobs' voice may none have Esau's hands:  
None Bishops hate, because they love their lands.  
Nor may long prayers the widow's house devour  
Or God's house widow make, and seize her dour;  
Nor by vain babbling only serve to show  
A Babel of confusion thence must grow;  
Out of the road of Common sense Career,  
That none may say 'tis commonprayer they hear.   

Hate our Church forms, lest they delivered be  
From pride, vainglory, and hypocrisy:  
From envy, hatred, want of charity,  
From all sedition, and conspiracy;  
From all false Doctrine, and from heresy;  
Strange superstition in the litany:  
To pray for Charles, and for his victories  
O'er these their sins, his greatest enemies.   

Restore Great Charles our litanies, that we  
May pray for those, who would not pray for thee:  
Into the way than shall we God implore,  
The erred and deceived to restore.  
Forgive and pray forgiveness: hearts refute  
Did both us slander, and thee persecute.  
So we may have restored the fruits of th'earth  
Having of them nor of good prayers a dearth.   

Then unity, peace, and concord we'll beseech  
God make up ours, and every Nations breach.  
Pity on prisoners, and for Captives pray,  
Though they were those would take our lives away:  
Have mercy Lord on all men we beseech.  
Prayers which exceptions use can ne'er heaven reach.  
Broke bones may thus rejoice, knit, grow more strong  
In ways of peace, and truth to walk along.   
FINIS.