THE PROTESTANTS CONGRATULATION To the CITY For their Excellent CHOICE of MEMBERS To Serve in PARLIAMENT, October 7, 1679.  


VIZ.  
The Right Honourable Sir Robert Clayton, Lord Mayor Elect.  
Wiliiam Love, Esq  
Sir. Thomas Player, Chamberlain of London, And  
Thomas Pilkington, Merchant.    
Who all Served for that Honourable CITY in the last ever-memorable PARLIAMENT.  

HAil Worthy Citizens! For what this Day  
You have done so Well, not only We Repay  
Deserved Thanks, but the Next Age shall Learn  
By your firm Steps their Duty to Discern.  
When Rome's sly Factors with their usual Arts  
And private Lures thought to Divide your Hearts;  
And Mints of Slander in Cabals had Coined,  
Stale foolish Lies, Which Impudence Designed  
You should take Currant; and then Fright you so  
As to Contribute to your own Or'ethrow.  
You Fathomed straight their Plot, and with one Voice  
Agreed upon a Sound and well-tried Choice.  
Heaven which er'e-while in Sympathising Tears  
And Sable Weeds bewailed our needless Fears  
On this Presaging Morn, more Bright appears:  
The Sky looked Clear as were our Joys; The Sun  
Himself being Proud to View what you had done.  
Be gone you private Panders for the Whore,  
With Forty One you Bubble us no more.  
We now know how your then concealed Springs  
Moved Faction; and Murdered the best of Kings.  
Those Arts you still Pursue, To play your Game  
Would fain Engage us in a second Flame.  
And your Confounded Popish Plot to hide,  
Would gladly cast it clear on t'other side.  
The Eagle once from her own Pinions found  
That Arrow Feathered, which gave her a Wound:  
So England's Church was like to be Betrayed  
By false pretended Sons in Masquerade.  
But Thanks, brave City, which well Understands,  
To Judge 'twixt Jacob's Voice and Esau's Hands.  
You Scorned to Gratify their Factious Pride,  
Who only studied how they might Divide.  
Vain are Rome's Plots, in vain does Haughty France  
To Universal Tyranny advance  
And think to Ridd the World of Protestants  
Whilst CHARLES Survives, and Mighty Britain stands  
Defying all their Heads, and all their Hands.  
And London firm in Loyalty and Zeal  
Gives such Blessed Voices for the Public Weal.  
London! That shall in aftertimes become  
Fatal (beyond what Carthage wished) to Rome.  
Methinks I see an Universal Smile,  
And Beams of Joy spread through our Triple Isle:  
Methinks I see with what a Generous Scorn  
The Wheadling Make-bates hopes were overborn,  
Whilst General Echoes through the Hall did sound  
For Clayton, Player, Love, and Pilkington.  
The Thames with nimble Ebbs hastens to bear  
The News to Neptune's Court, who with due care  
Sends some bold English Tributary Wave,  
That with the Tidings Tybur shall Outbrave.  
Hush then, dull Libelers! whose Croaking Noise  
Proclaims you Egypt's Vermin by your Voice:  
That Atheist Ruffian, with his Hue and Cry,  
Drunk, as he's wont, in his Old Goal may lie;  
Whilst Peter Dulman shakes his empty Skull,  
And Vomits Slanders a whole Green-Bag full.  
Forgive me, Worthies! That I here should Name  
These viler Infects nibbling at your Fame.  
To do well, and Hear Ill is Virtue's Fate;  
You now are called to a Sublimer State,  
Push on their Envy, and disdain their Hate.  
In that Great Senate where you are to go,  
No Interest but your King's and Nations know.  
Act like yourselves, Act as yourselves have done,  
Fear not the Malice of a Sawey Tongue  
Set, like some Clocks, on purpose to go wrong.  
Think on your Charge, which under God, controls  
The Fate of many hundred thousand Souls.  
Act so for King and Country, that you may  
Be ever thought as Worthy as to Day.   
FINIS.   

London, Printed for Benjamin Harris in the Piazza under the Royal Exchange in Cornhill, 1679.