THE CITIZENS JOY For the Rebuilding OF LONDON.  

LONDON lies Grovelling on the Earth yet begs  
Her God again to raise her on her legs.  
She now confesseth (thereby warning all)  
That Pride doth ever go before a fall.  
Stripped now of all her Ornaments she lies  
In dust and ashes low; and ever cries,  
Help, help, great King of Kings, O don't deny;  
Pour in my wounds thy Balsam, else I die.  
Her humble prayers were heard: Heaven did decree '  
She should again enjoy prosperity.  
Physician's too were sent to search her grief;  
Thus wants not mortal nor divine relief.   

A God-consuming punished Her with Fire,  
And laid her low to raise her up the higher.  
He only purged Her from her dross that She  
Refined might shine in greater purity.   

The Basis now is laid; and God commands,  
That English men should lend their helping hands.  
His Viceroy, our dread sovereign first obeyed,  
And the first Stone of this great structure laid.  
'Tis He that will this City now restore,  
To greater glory than it had before.  
For which brave deeds perpetually lets sing,  
Glory to God and Honour to our King.  
Neither pure gold, nor incense let us bring,  
Yet far as rich and sweet an offering.  
And such as both those precious things express,  
Which is out hearts full fraught with thankfulness.  
By which is fully paid the All we own  
To God above or Mortal Men below.   

The City-building Bill, is now an act,  
Blessed be our Sovereign for that gracious fact.  
Nay more— now do I want an Epithet,  
As bright as the Conveyor of our light.  
An Act; O blessed Act! yet that's too weak.  
And not so splendid as my heart would speak.  
An Act; of Acts, which plainly doth impart  
Conformity of Building, and of Heart:  
Its influence hath quite dispelled those clouds,  
Of Jealousies and Fears which thronged in crowds,  
And did o'erspread our Gloomy Hemisphere,  
Are dissipated, and no where appear.   

Our WintersWinters now e'en gone, the Earth hath lost  
Her Snowwhite Robes, and Mantles made of Frost.  
Now the warm Sun thaws the benumbed Earth,  
And She now teeming well bring forth a birth  
The which all Nations shall with fear admire,  
Guarded by Angels from the rage of Fire.  
Now do a Choir of Chirping Minstrels bring  
In triumph to the World the Touthful Spring.  
The Spring comes on with more than usual speed,  
To see the sowing of immortal seed;  
Houses I mean, which shall supply the place  
Of such, which did before the place disgrace.  
Now shall each place pride in her structures, and  
Those structures ne'er contended for th' upperhand.  
The streets shall be dilated, and our wealth;  
More room to breath; better enjoy our health.  
Old things shall be converted into new,  
Antiquity shall bid the World adieu.  
Nothing shall now obstruct the City's weal  
We must have fewer Churches, but more Zeal.  
Before we had so many, one in ten  
Could scarce on Sundays count so many men.  
From hence we see the Judgements just, which took  
Away the Churches basely we forsook.   

Old drooping Paul ere long shall have a choir,  
Whose Heavenly Music shall our souls inspire.  
All things will so concur, in all agree,  
No discords now, but all sweet harmony,  
No discontent, but all replete with Joy;  
London's rebuilding now, Vice le Roy.   
With Allowance.   

LONDON, Printed by P. Lillicrap for Richard Head, at the Heart in Bible in Little- Britain. Where you may have Mr. Matthews his approved and Universal Pill for all diseases 1667.