JOHN HENRY WRENN.   modern bookplate   

THE GREAT FEAST At the Sheepshearing of the City and Citizens, on the 7 th'. of june last: Consecrated for an Holy Thursday in Memorandum of St. Thomas, and St. Oliver; Solemnly holden at the Grocer's Hall, London, 1649.  
To the Tone or Garb of the Counter Scuffle.  
Printed in the Year, 1649.   

The great Feast, at the Sheepshearing of the City and Citizens, on Thursday the 7. of june last.  

MY Reader must not here suppose  
That I will waste good Verse or Prose  
On Fairsax face, or Cromwel's nose,  
Or Atkins savoury breech;  
Nor Skippon (that almighty Major)  
Or Ireton (commissary Rager)  
Nor will I write (I'll lay a wager)  
Like Pembroke's Learned speech.   

The famous Acts of Noble Hero's,  
Great England's brave Renowned Nero's,  
And all their Stout Biberius Mero's  
Behold their entertainment;  
And if with patience you will read,  
(If God be pleased to send good speed)  
'Tis thought the fates are all agreed  
To further their arraignment.   

Now for the Feast, I hold it fit,  
(Although myself had not a bit)  
That something of it should be writ  
For after imitation;  
Therefore I'll show the cause wherefore  
This Feast was eat, paid for, and more,  
And not one penny set o'th' score,  
(A worthy commendation.)   

These costs were spent to canonize  
Those mighty mortal Deities,  
Then stroke your beards, and wipe your eyes  
If you'll behold their splendour;  
Then (Ecce signum) these are they  
Who laid King Charles as cold as clay,  
And by that Act most fit they may  
Be called no Faith's defender.   

These Worthies have fought for the Cause,  
For our Religion, Lives, and Laws,  
And set us free from Tyrant's claws,  
Now truth and right bears sway:  
All Taxes now are laid aside,  
Plenty of all things, far and wide  
Folks may in peace, both go or ride,  
The clean contrary way.   

These, these are they, whose Noble Actions  
Purged Church and State from putrefactions,  
Cured our distempers and distractions,  
And set us all in quiet:  
And have they done for us all this,  
As th' only Authors of our bliss,  
We held it therefore not amiss  
To give them some good diets   

True Citizens, are Cities sons,  
Whose wit and coin, in plenty runs,  
Their hogsheads empty many tuns,  
They are such kind of folks;  
For all our troubles they are graced,  
And in the foremost ranks are placed,  
And all true Palates them do taste,  
Like Eggs that have no yolks.   

This Army, and this Parliament,  
Hath been th' Appointed instrument  
To save them all from detriment  
By cowing of their courage.  
They kiss the rod, and love the threaters,  
They are enamoured of their cheaters,  
And humbly beg them to be eaters  
Of Venison, Wine, and Borage.   

But for this feasts great preparation,  
And how 'twas kept with Acclamation,  
I will not wrong your expectation  
With more delays or fables.  
They all prepared to cleanse their sin  
By Owen's Preach, and Tom Goodwin,  
In Christ Church which hath never been  
Like other Church's stables.   

But Christ Church was for other beasts  
Than Horses, or horn wanting crests,  
Though Bucks or Stags be at the feasts,  
Yet sure there were not any.  
There might be Atheists there perhaps  
(Who fear not Heavens great thunder claps)  
Nor think hells all devouring chaps  
Will swallow half so many.   

Yet at these Preachments and sweet prayers  
There were Beasts, Tigers, Wolves and Bears,  
And greedy dogs with pricked up ears,  
But not one Royal Lion:  
Some asles and some crafty Foxes,  
Who hid stolen treasure in their boxes,  
And some that pleased their dells and Doxeys  
With music like Arion.   

The Preachers very zealously  
Mocked God (with thanks for victory,  
And Popham came triumphantly  
Well beaten from Kinsale.  
But after three hours long digressing,  
The Levites salved all Trangressing,  
And gave them Independent blessings  
By whole sale and Retale.   

The Pomp of these most Pompous sinners  
From Heavenly food to Earthly dinners,  
Gazed on by Oyster wives and Spinners,  
And Porters in abowndance.  
Fine silken fools, brave golden gulls,  
Some modest maids, some shameless Trulls,  
And Trumpeters near split their sculls  
With noise would make a Hound dance.   

The Marshal mounted on his Steed  
(With care prudential, and good heed)  
Ushered the Herd where they might feed,  
Of people made two hedges:  
Next whom the Grocer's Livery men,  
The Common Council followed then,  
Which all appeared (to myken)  
Like Beetles, Blocks, and Wedges.   

The Officers and Squires before,  
(With needless creatures many more)  
And one a Cap of Maintenance wore,  
And in his hand a sword,  
Which never man in anger drew:  
For had they drawn it just and true,  
Then never had the damned crew  
Destroyed our Sovereign Lord.   

Next that the Mayor of London road,  
His Horse and He had each their Load  
Whose Lordships both, gave many a nod  
To people as he passes.  
His Scarlet gown his beck did bear,  
And 'bout his neck he then did wear,  
A bunch of Jewels rich and dear,  
Hanged in a collar of Asses.   

The City music sweetly fiddled,  
And Bells (in Changes) rung and ridled,  
Whilst on their Palfreys they down didled  
Through Cheapsides famous street.  
I tell you that the like wasn'er  
Since William's reign (the Conquerere)  
And ne'er will be the like I fear,  
'Tis better fortune greet.   

Then followed England's Pompey (Tom)  
And his Commander (Well come Crom)  
Whose sights the people (thither come)  
With four hours stay expected,  
But they with th' Speaker and the Mace,  
Disdained the multitude to grace  
With one good glance of one good face,  
Which made them disaffected.   

For some said Toms was black and blue,  
And Nols was of a crimson hue,  
And each of them looked like a Jew  
That murdered had their Christ.  
For sure they can have no excuse  
For their inhuman base abuse,  
Their Kings and good men's blood to since,  
The Devil them all enticed.   

Thus they in triumph passed along  
Through dear Cheapside, and all the throng,  
Whilst thousand curses was the song  
Which blessed them as they went;  
At Grocer's Hall, they grocely fed,  
With which their paunches out were spread,  
Whilst thousands starve for want of bread,  
Let's thank the Parliament.   

Near forty Bucks, these Holy Ones  
Devoured, and left the dogs the bones,  
And Music graced with Tunes and Tones,  
This Bacchanalian Feast:  
And after that, a Banquet came  
Of sweet meats of rare form and frame,  
Of Castles, Towers, and Forts of Fame,  
More than can be expressed.   

But one thing now to mind I call,  
They lacked a Marchpane like White-Hall,  
●●●…e which a Scaffold square and tall,  
And on it a good King;  
And there his head to be off chopped,  
And all his Branches bravely lop'd,  
How three great Kingdoms bliss was cropped;  
This had been a fine thing.   

Thus with the Ordnance thundering roar,  
My muse is mute, I must give over,  
Whilst England's woes good men deplore,  
Whilst Tyrant's feast with joy;  
But I desire, that every one  
Would humbly pray to God alone  
To set the second Charles on's Throne,  
And all our Griefs destroy.   
FINIS.