THE Parliament-Complement, OR THE readmission OF THE SECLUDED-MEMBERS To the Discharge of their long retarded trust.  

SInce sixteen hundred forty and odd,  
We have soundly been lashed with our own rod,  
And have bowed ourselves down at a tyrant's nod,  
Which nobody can deny.   

We have seen a new thing called a Council of State,  
Upheld by a power that's now out of date,  
Put to th' question, byth' members of forty eight;  
Which nobody can deny.   

We have seen what we hope, we shall ne'er see again,  
Now Lambert and Desbrow, are snared in the gin,  
The Tail cunningly pieced unto the skin,  
Which nobody can deny.   

A Sword that has frighted our Laws out of door,  
A backsword I wot, that must cut so no more,  
By th' Honour of Monck, now quitting that score,  
Which nobody can deny.   

A Vote lately called the judgement ofth ' house,  
To be esteemed and reputed not worth a Louse,  
And the Grandee of Portsmouth made a fine Chouse,  
Which nobody can deny.   

We have seen an assessment, a Thing for Taxes,  
Though the commonwealth wain, the Private waxes:  
Swords into Plowshares, and such bills to axes,  
Which nobody can deny.   

Another new story of Qualification,  
That belonged to no honest man of the Nation,  
Like the ill contrived Authors, quite out of Fashion.  
Which nobody can deny.   

Original sin, was damned by that Law,  
The son of a Cavalier made a Jack-straw,  
To be chewed again by their ravenous jaw,  
Which nobody can deny.   

To fill up the House, and to shuffle the deal,  
New writs issued out, for there new Commonweal,  
But it's not worth asking who is't pays the seal,  
Which nobody can deny.   

I wonder who pays the late Parliament Printers,  
That place they may hold as many Summers as Winters  
And wish their Presses were broken in splinters,  
Which nobody can deny.   

A great many traitors by them lately made,  
Makes Treason be thought a common Trade,  
Sir George Booth and Jack Lambert a while in the shade  
Which nobody can deny.   

We shall now sure give over that word Sequester,  
Now the Tail is cured of their rankling fester,  
The twentieth of April is much about Easter,  
Which nobody can deny.   

How many Thanks of the House have been idly spent  
Upon People that still have been malcontent,  
But they must fast from those dainties in this shriving Lent  
Which nobody can deny.   

That honourable favour no more shall be given  
To the factious merit of a party Hell-driven,  
For now our twenty years' odds will be even,  
Which nobody can deny.   

Then room for our Prisoners detained in the Tower  
And away with the new lieutenant's power,  
Who's minting the widowed good old causes Dower,  
Which nobody can deny.   

Sir George Booth, shall not think this a hit of fate,  
Nor excuse his keeper, whose warrants out 'f date,  
We shall see them all cry Peccavi too late,  
Which nobody can deny.   

Eleven years' mischiefs, tumults and rage,  
Are the only memorials, of this commonwealth's age,  
And all to be thanked, be Hazilrigg the sage,  
Which nobody can deny.   

Let our Liberty-keepers be changed to Restorer  
Let our Peace carry Truth and Duty before her,  
He's a Fool and a Knave that else will adore her,  
Which nobody can deny.   

This Janus like Freedom, though it please not us all  
And aversly doth look on the sceptre and Ball  
Will shut up its Temple at next Common-Hall,  
Which nobody can deny.   

Then let's pray to Great Jove, that made Monck so kind,  
To our desperate Estate, to put him in mind,  
With the rest of our Worthies, of the Great Thing behind,  
Which nobody can deny.    

LONDON, Printed for James Nidale. 1660.