England's JOY For the Coming in of our Gracious sovereign King Charles the Second  
To the Tune of, A Joyful Sight to see.  


Charles the Second.  
James Duke of York.  
Henry Duke of Gloucester.   

RIng Bells, and let bonfires out-blaze the Sun,  
Let echoes contribute their voice,  
For now a happy settlements begun,  
To show how we do all rejoice:  
If we by this  
Can have the bliss  
To reinjoy a unity,  
We'll do no more  
As heretofore,  
But will in mutual love increase,  
If we can once again have peace.  

How joyful shall we be.    

The King shall his Prerogatives enjoy,  
The State their privilege shall have,  
He will not theirs, nor will they his annoy,  
But both each others strive to save:  
The people shall  
Turn loyal all  
And strive t' obey his Majesty,  
And Truth and Peace  
Shall both increase,  
They'll be obedient to the Laws  
And hate that subtle name of Cause.  

Then joyful shall we be.    

The Parliament will rise no more in arms,  
To fight against their lawful King,  
Nor be deluded by their factious charms  
That all the Realm to treason bring:  
They'll learn to vote  
No more by rote  
Nor pass their Bills ex tempore,  
But study peace  
And trades increase,  
Since now we find it is not good  
To write the Kingdom peace in blood,  

But joyful shall we be.     

The second Part,  
to the same Tune.  
 

THe cobblers shall not edify their Tubs,  
Nor in Divinity-set stitches,  
We'll not be instructed by Merchanick scrubs,  
Women shan't preach with men for breeches:  
The prickeared Tribe  
That won't subscribe  
Unto our church's Hierarchy,  
Must England leave,  
And to Geneve,  
New England, or to Amsterdam,  
With all whom Church and State can't tame.  

Then joyful shall we be.    

We'll toil no more to maintain Patentees  
That feed upon poor people's trade,  
Star Chamber shan't vex guiltless men for fees,  
Nor Law to Vice for bribes be Bawd:  
The Bishops each  
Will learn to preach,  
Rich Clergy will not silent be,  
And judges all  
Impartial,  
When Laws alike to all degrees,  
No sleeping judges gape for fees.  

How joyful shall we be.    

We'll fighting more for jealousies, and Fears,  
Nor spend our blood, we know not why;  
The Roundheads shall shake hands with Cavaliers,  
And both for King and country die:  
The Sword shall not  
Maintain a Plot  
For fear of Plots which ne'er shall be,  
Nor will we still  
Each other kill,  
To fight for those that are as far  
From Peace, as they will be from War.  

But joyful shall we be.    

The broken Cits no more shall lick their Chops,  
Nor Wealth recruit with country's store,  
But lay down Arms, and keep within their Shops,  
And cry what lack you, as before:  
They'll turn again  
Blew aproned men,  
And leave their titles of degree,  
Nor will they pr●te  
'Gainst Church and State,  
But change their Feathers, Flags, and Dr●●●  
For Items and for total Sums.  

How joyful shall we be.    

We will not Garrisons of Lubbers feed,  
To plunder, drink, and gather pay,  
While they lie gazing, and are both agreed  
To fetch our goods add us away;  
And though they swear,  
We will not care,  
Nor to such Skowndrels servile be;  
We will not stand  
With Cap in hand,  
Beseeching them to let alone  
The goods which justly are our own  

But j●yful shall we be.    

Fanatic Troopers must go home again,  
And humbly walk a foot to Plow,  
Nor domineer thus over honest men,  
But work to get their livings now:  
Or if their mind  
Be not inclined  
To leave their former knavery,  
A halter shall  
Dispatch them all,  
And then the Gallows shall be made  
The highest preferment of their trade.  

A joyful sight to see.    

Let Roundheads shake their circumcised 〈◊〉  
We'll ride about as well as they,  
Nor will we stand in fear of Cavaliers  
That sleep all night, and drink all day  
When we can find  
Both sides inclined  
To change their War for unity;  
O 'twill be brave,  
If we can have  
The Freedom granted by our Charter,  
And scape from plunder, pay, and quarte●  

How joyful shall we be.      

London, Printed for John Andrews, at the White Lion near pie-corner.