GREAT NEWS FROM WESTMINSTER, Or a CONGRATULATION upon The happy ASSEMBLING Of the Lords and Commons IN PARLIAMENT.  
According to his Majesty's Prorogation of the 26th of this instant January, 1679.  

ALL Hail great Isle, still may thy Fame increase,  
Glorious in Arms, no less renowned in Peace;  
Let sacred Hallows now thy Joys proclaim,  
Since thy great Councils, who have raised thy Name  
Above the Nations that enclose thee round,  
With sacred Laws, which like pure Streams abound  
In all the Corners of thy pleasing Soil,  
Are once more met ro cheer the After-toil;  
And raise thy safety to so high a pitch,  
That it shall sore beyond pale Envies reach.  
Now Tyrant- Rome's Contriving are in vain,  
Whose B●ood shot Eyes have looked on thee with pain.  
The Parliament, who, next Heaven and thy King,  
Is the bright Fountain, whence thy Hovours spring.  
Whose mighty Wisdom like some Angel Guide▪  
Has kept thee chaste in spite of all their Pride.  
What Hells black Legions could devise, or State,  
To hurry on thy yet unwilling Fate;  
Great Councils sacred, whose Bright wings have fanned  
With wholesome Airs, so oft this fainting Land;  
And raised her dying hope▪ even from the Grave,  
When 'twas supposed there was no power to save,  
Nay more, five hundred years, like Moses stood  
it'h Gap, to save the shedding precious Blood;  
Or like restoring Balm, to heal the Wound,  
Made wide by Factions, and to ●ender sound  
This mighty Mass, with fatal whirlwinds Rend,  
Which had destroyed it, had they not given Vent;  
And blown Rome's Thunders back, which in dark Clouds.  
Bore swift▪ destruction whilst there swarmed in Crowds;  
The dreadful Locusts from the smokeing Pit,  
And Bathed in Blood, supposed on Thrones to sit;  
And brood such Treasons as amazed Mankind,  
Whose equals Hell is at a loss to find.  
Yet by the Wisdom of a Parliament,  
These were unma●k'd, and back to Babel sent,  
The Nation's Choice, and greatest Happiness,  
Whom Heaven assigned, when he designed to bless;  
The long loved Monarches of this chosen Isle,  
Whom we most Just, the Land of Promise stile.  
That so they might the Sword of Justice bear,  
When Guarded by the People's Vigil Care;  
From all approaching Dangers, or the Frowns,  
Of Rome's Grand Tribe, those Enemies to Crowns.  
Whose late Conspiracies had Ruin made,  
Whilst England's mighty Charter had been la●d;  
Supinely in the Dust, and all things turned,  
Into Confusion or to Ashes burned.  
But Oh! Let Britain Grateful Anthems sing,  
Whilst she with Peace enjoys her sacred King;  
Whose prudent Care next Heaven● protecting hand,  
Has fixed the Rock on which the Kingdoms stand;  
Where like wise Architects, in the Design,  
The Lords and Commons both Obedient Join;  
To finish what Heaven s Viceroy did begin,  
And blast the Councils of that Man of Sin:  
Whose haughty Insolence presumes to tread,  
Upon those Princes he has Captive lead;  
And sends his Serpents hissing round the Globe,  
With poisons sucked from his infectious Robe;  
To Sprinkle it, and so pollute the Earth,  
With Rapes and Treasons of such Monstrous Birth,  
That nought but England's healing Synod could,  
Have stopped the Torrent ere it flowed with Blood;  
Or check the boiling Rage when swelled so great,  
That each black moment roul'd on storms of Fate.  
Then since our sacred Monarch has been pleased,  
To call again that Council which has eased,  
The weighty Grievances that have prevailed,  
And raised new hopes when Expectation failed;  
Therefore with Joy, let smiling England say,  
She now has seen the long wished happy day;  
In which the Pillars of her safety met,  
Resolving all in her behalf to bet,  
The utmost of their Fortunes, and what more,  
(For their dear Country's sake) remains in Store.  
So our revived hopes may now arise,  
And winged with Joy, transcend the Crystal Skies.  
Whilst mighty Charles, in Royal Robes Arrayed;  
On Seats of splended Majesty has made  
His sacred pleasure known, that all the Land,  
May own his Wise, his Great and Just Command.  
So that Eternal Union may ensue,  
And Loyal Subjects pay their Homage due;  
Whilst everlasting Glories wait upon,  
His Royal Self, his Kingdoms and his Throne.   
FINIS.   

LONDON, Printed by D. M. 1679.