Long looked for is come at last.  
People were filled with Discontent,  
Wanting their wished for Parliament:  
But called by Charles our Gracious King,  
Merrily now they Laugh and Sing.  
To the Tune of, Let Bumpers go round, &c.  


Papists shall here receive their fatal Doom,  
Because they've acted for the Pope of Rome.    a man on a throne  figures standing under an archway guarding a captive while armed men march past  

NOw the Parliament Sits, Traytors look to your Hits,  
there's no doubt but they'l call you to Question,  
Some do boldly declare, that in Earnest you were,  
and I hope they will not go in Iest on:  
Th●n come to the Bar, since Invited you are,  
and freely aclowledge your Plots;  
For your great Friend the Pope, is almost out of Hope,  
and in each of your Scutcheons there's Damnable Blots:  
Give Traytors their Due,  
Give Traytors their Due,  
or else we shall find Loyal hearts but a few;  
For it is a sad thing,  
To murder a King,  
and Destroy, and Destroy Religion too.   

The Great Gun-powder-Plot, will ne'er be forgot,  
nor the Cruelties Papists intended,  
And no Man can tell, what would us have befell,  
if the Heavens had not us befriended:  
While for Mercy we prayed, it was not delayed,  
but we found to our comfort and Ioy,  
That God would us keep, both Awake and Asleep,  
and the Pope and his Agents could not us Destroy:  
Give Traytors their Due,  
Give Traytors their Due,  
or else we shall find Loyal hearts but a few,  
For it is a sad thing,  
To Murder a King,  
and destroy, and destroy Religion too.   

Since the Parliament then, is made up of brave men,  
and none Sits but are bravely esteemed;  
Let us Laugh and rejoice, at this Noble brave Choice,  
and thank God we from Foes are Redeemed:  
Live long then great Charles, with your Lords and your Earls  
who our Religion do strive to Defend,  
When the Pope doth come in, will our Sorrows begin,  
and there's no Man can tell when our Torments shall end:  
Give Traytors their Due,  
Give Traytors their Due, &c.   

Then Blow merry Gales, for to fill up the Sails,  
and Transport all our Foes from the Nation;  
For they Comfort will find, that are all of one mind,  
and Division's the Devils Creation:  
Sure he's not very Wise, who doth Shapes Idolize,  
or suppose that the Pope can Forgive;  
For he is but a Man, and pray tell me how than,  
can he the Sin-loaded poor Sinner Relieve?  
Give Traytors their Due,  
Give Traytors their Due, &c.   

But since at the worst, we by them are accursed,  
and all heretics we are supposed;  
Were it well understood, they do thirst after Blood,  
our Creator he certainly knows it:  
What Devices they had for to make their Hearts glad,  
they did Surfeit with hopes to Destroy,  
This Plot we do know, was laid long ago,  
but the Heavens did Smile, and now fills us with joy:  
Give Traytors their Due,  
Give Traytors their Due, &c.   

Long looked for at last, to the Plot gives a Blast,  
and the Parliament now doth befriend us,  
And doth separate those, whom we looked on as Foes,  
what Misery then can attend us:  
Let us pray Night and Day, since God found out a way,  
to Deliver us from Sword and Fire;  
And we are not Bereft, but have Witnesses left,  
to Attest what the Papists did freely ●eare:  
Give Traytors their due,  
Give Traytors their due, &c.   

But this proves a great across, and the Papists sad Loss,  
thus strangely to be Disappointed,  
When they thought they were sure, to bring us to their Lure,  
their whole Frame it was strangely disjointed:  
And their Friends( as they thought) have our Happiness wrought,  
then give the Almighty the Praise,  
Who takes no Delight, in such Deeds of Dark Night,  
but Discovery's made us by several ways:  
Give Traytors their due,  
Give Traytors their due, &c.   

And now for to Close, let us pray for our Foes,  
that God wou●d be pleased to endue them  
With a sight of their Sins, since all Europe begins  
with a circumspectly Eye for to view them:  
Oh, let them Repent, for their Wicked Intent  
was the Innocent Blood for to spiil;  
But our Great God above, who's the Author of ●ove,  
declares 'tis against his most Heavenly will.  
Give Traytors their due,  
Give Traytors their due, &c.    

Printed for F. C●●●s, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Cla●●, W. T. and T. P.