Bacchus' Festival, OR, A NEW MEDLEY BEING A Musical Representation at the Entertainment of his EXCELLENCY THE Lord General Monck. At VINTNERS-HALL, April 12. 1660.  Bacchus enters attended by four Drawers, a Frenchman, Spaniard, German, and Greek. 

Rouse then my soul, from that dull sottish Lethargy  
thou late didst lie;  
Call home thy spirits, let this Genial day  
Be sacrificed in mirth; Let full and crowned Bowls  
proclaim our jovial souls, slavery;  
And let us cast all pining cares away:  
Since thou brave GEORGE hast us redeemed from sleepy  
hast ruined those  
who were our foes,  
And scorned our Deity.  
Sure there must something in thee be which is divine:  
since thou hast thus  
restored us,  
And water turned to wine.   

Those phlegmatic, yet frantic rascals which of late  
did rend the State,  
And with their small-beer Heresies confound  
Our peace and welfare; are by thee, thy country's friend  
brought to deserved end;  
And now the Nations hopes are almost crowned.  
This justly may our after ages all convince,  
that he who slights  
God Bacchus' rites,  
— Turns Traitor to his Prince.  
But he must a good Patriot be, who will his veins replenish  
with Cyprian black,  
or golden Sack,  
Or the rein-searching Rhenish.   

Come then my jolly boys, this Hero here present  
with our gifts sent,  
Or from the gallic, or Iberian shore:  
That so unto our utmost power we may show  
the praise we owe  
In our own sphere; since we can do no more.  
For Sir, both gods and men will freely now confess  
you have our Laws,  
our Faith, our Cause  
— restored to happiness.  
There yet remains behind one truly grateful thing,  
which is that you  
give Cesar his due,  
— And help us to our King,   FRENCHMAN Speaks. 
By God Bacchus order I here you present  
with a Cup of Apollo's own Nectar;  
'Tis the drink of the gods, and I dare lay you odds  
'Twill make you most bravely conjecture  
What the Nation greedily longs for,  
and to what its thoughts are thus bent;  
That you would restore, and we may have once more,  
our King and Parliament.  Chorus 

Here's the white or the red, take both as your due,  
For our blood and our brains we must both owe to you.   SPANIARD. 
Stand by fond foolish Monsieur, let me come,  
Who am the only man in Christendom.  
As for your countrymen, they're antic,  
Their Wine's for nothing but to make men frantic.  
But Sir, you may be sure this G-ass contains  
What will inspire you with Aetherial strains.  Chorus, 

'Tis good Canary only makes men sing,  
And truly stand for country, God and King.   GERMAN. 
Nay then amongst the rest,  
Let me present a Test  
Both of my Wine and Soul,  
Which freely in this Bowl  
I hear do dedicate,  
And that you may it rate  
At its due worth, and so  
Its virtues truly know.  Chorus, 

'Twill purge out all infection's Blood, and render  
You still more strong to be the state's Defender.   GREEK. 
To this is that alone which now must ease  
This nation of its lukewarm disease,  
Recruit our vitals, and new propagate  
A lasting peace between our Church and State.  
This Sir, will free us from the poisonous raint,  
Lurks in the faint heart of our wall-eyed saint.  Chorus 

'Twill make us freely to rejoice and pray,  
To see our Charles' Coronation Day.