The Tune to the Devonshire Cant:  
Or, an Answer to the PARLIAMENT Dissolved at Oxford.  
— Nun vides ut nudum remigio latus.  Horat. Ode XIIII Lib. I 

THE safety of the KING and's Royal Throne,  
Depends on those 500 KINGS alone;  
Those, under whom some say three Kingdoms groan.   

The Commons no new Methods will assign,  
Of choosing KINGS they know the Royal Line,  
Was wont to be reputed as Divine.   

Your Englishmen who understand who gave,  
Their KING his Royal grandeur scorn to have,  
His Majesty their General, their Slave.   

As frantic and outrageous as were,  
Their VOTES; they showed their Vigilence and care,  
And nought like those could dissipate our fear.   

They are Dissolved and with them all our hopes,  
Prepare for Smithfeild fires for Racks and Ropes;  
For that's the pleasing Exercise of POPES.   

Now to create Intestine Broils what need  
Is there, of those experienced things take heed,  
When'th State's Blood's hot 'tis dangerous to bleed.   

In all true Hearts it would a Love create,  
To see the Supreme power dissipate,  
All Pensioners, those Spungers of our State.   

The Commons aims were but to regulate,  
Things shuflled out of place in Church and State,  
Nor to cramp Justice but corroborate.   

When they offend they justly feel the smart,  
Imposed on them by some ambitious heart;  
Who's swellen envy breaks out like a Fart.   

But here's the mischief, they espouse the Law,  
Hate those who Subjects from Allogiance draw,  
And of their Royal Master stand in awe.   

We've grounds to hope when next they meet they'll bring,  
Wise Counsels, Grave Proposals, every thing,  
Conducive to the Peace of People and KING.   

If so, we'll sing adieu to PLOTS, in vain  
Shall Rogues attempt to shake our Peace again,  
And then great CHARLES most happily will reign.    

London: Printed for T. Raw in London yard, near St. Paul's. 168●