MAJESTY'S Dissolving the late Parliament at Oxford, March 28. 1681.  

AN Atheist now must a Monster be,  
Of a strange Gigantic birth:  
His Omnipotence does let all men see,  
That our King's a God on Earth.   

Fiat, says he by Proclamation,  
And the Parliament is created:  
He reputes of his work, the Dissolution  
Makes all annihilated.   

We Scholars were expelled awhile,  
To let the Senators in,  
But they behaved themselves, as  
So we return again:   

And wonder to see our Geometry School  
All round about beseated,  
Though there's no need of an Euclid's rule,  
To demonstrate 'em all defeated.   

The Commons their Voting Problems would,  
In Riddles so involve,  
That what the Peers scarce understood,  
The King was forced to solve.   

The Commons for a good Omen chose,  
An old consulting station:  
Being glad to dispossess their Foes  
O th' House of Convocation.   

So Statesmen like poor Scholars be,  
For near the usual place  
They stood, we know, for a great Degree,  
But the King denied their Grace.   

Though sure he must his Reason give,  
And charge them of some Crime:  
Or else by course they'll have reprieve,  
For this is the Third time.   

It was because they did begin,  
With insolent behaviour:  
And who should expiate their Sin,  
The King himself's no Saviour.   

Their Faults grew to a bulk so high,  
As Mercy did forestall:  
So Charter forfeited thereby,  
They must like Adam fall.   

It is resolved the Duke shall fail,  
A Sceptre to inherit:  
Nor right nor desert shall prevail,  
'Tis Popish to plead Merit.   

Let the King respect the Duke his Brother,  
And keep affection still,  
As duly to the Church his Mother:  
In both they'll cross his will.   

They would Dissenters harmless save,  
And Penalties repeal:  
As if they'd humour Thiefs, who crave  
A liberty to steal.   

Thus he that does a Pardon lack,  
For Treason damned to die,  
They'd tempt, poor man, to save his neck,  
By adding Perjury.   

The Nobles threw th' Impeachment out,  
Because, no doubt, they saw,  
'Twas best to bring his cause about,  
But not to th' Commons Law,   

But hence 'twas plaguily suspected,  
Nay 'tis resolved by Vote,  
That the Lords are Popishly affected,  
And stiflers of the Plot.   

The Commons courage can't endure  
To be affronted thus:  
So for the future to be sure,  
They'll be the Upper House.   

But by such Feverish Malady,  
Their strength so soon was spent,  
That punning Wits no doubt will cry,  
Oh Weeked Parliament.    

Printed in the Year, 1681.