News from the royal Exchange: OR, Gold turned into Mourning:  
FROM Exit Tyrannus Regum Vltimus Anno Libertatis Angliae Restitutae primo. Januarii 30. Anno Dom. 1648. TO ECCE! Exit non Tyrannus, sed Regum Hominumque optimus Anno Angliae Foelicitatis Vltimo.  
ENGLISHED: The last Tyrant of Kings died in the first Year of the Liberty of England Restored, January 30. 1648. Behold! It was not a Tyrant King that died, but the best of Kings and Men, that suffered in the last Year of England's Felicity.  

An acrostic upon King Charles.  
C Crowns of Gold with Cemms beset are vain,  
H Heavenly Crowns of Content are Gain:  
A A Shadow is the Throne this World affords,  
R Riches and Honours are but Weights with Cords  
L Loading the Prince's shoulders; who them bare,  
E Each Common Trouble calls for them to share.  
S Soul therefore let thy Meditation  
S Soar higher for a Habitation:  
T Treasure up Goods, where neither Moth nor Rust  
U (Undervalue things that turn to dust)  
A Ar● able to corrupt; that so thy Heart,  
R Rising above the height of man's desert,  
T Triumphing, may released be of smart.   

CHARLES STVART.  
ANAGRAM, Arts chaste Rule.  
Epigram.  
TIll Arts chaste Rule we do approve,  
And all things seek to win by Love,  
We must all miseries endure,  
Not Goods, nor Lands, nor Lives secure  
Can we expect, when each day brings  
New Changes, and new Sufferings:  
Wherefore Call in and him Enthrone,  
Who only can lay Claim to th'Crown;  
Let not the towering minds of men,  
Insult for private Interests then;  
But Tribute give to whom 'tis due,  
That so God's Blessing may ●nsue,  
Lest he overturn, overturn, overturn,  
And many Towns and Cities Burn:  
And waste the Nation, to perform  
His Word which shall not be forlorn  
Who hath it promised to give  
To whom 'tis due as he doth Live:  
Therefore do not his word withstand,  
But to Its Right restore the Land;  
By which a Pardon you may find,  
When to Repentance ye're inclined:  
That so in Peace your days may end  
Which in this World God doth you lend.   

The people's Complaint through want of their exiled sovereign LORD the KING.  
We Englishmen are worse them Esop's Frogs,  
We called those Tryant Kings which were but Logs,  
For when both Peace and plenty filled our Nation,  
We not content'cry out for Reformation;  
Jove sent us Storks: who in short time devour  
One hundred thousand Natives by their Power:  
This strikes us to the Heart, and we bethink  
How to repair our Chains, broke link from Linck.  
We try a Parliament which doth not please,  
We make of them a Rump, and yet not cease,  
We reform our General to a Protector,  
Who turned out Rumps, and played the gallant Hector.  
He Parliaments did call, and they did come,  
He turned them out and left an empty Room,  
Till Jove called him aside by a great wind,  
Who left us all to grope like those are blind;  
For when his Son did take the Royal Throne,  
We cried a Log, a Log, and threw him down:  
We called the Rumps again we had before,  
Who by a Cipher were turned out of door:  
A Safe Committee than did rule the Roast,  
Of which we have no reason for to boast:  
Our Rump did worm them out, and sat again,  
Till twice they Roasted were, which worked their bane:  
At last the Parliament of forty-eight  
Began to fit in th'House in former State  
At their resitting all the Bell did Ring,  
Much more they will, when we have Charles our King.    

London, Printed for Charles King. 1660.