. The Roxburghe ballads. d the CouutriesHappiness. Plainly shewing the great satisfaction and content that all LoyalSubjects do injoy by the new Election of Members of Parliament, whom Godpreserve and direct, that they may Act for the good of their King and Country,and the benefit and happiness of all the English Protestants. To the Tune of,Pigbys Fareivel, or, Packingtons Pound (see pp. 327, 457). Printed for PhilipBrooksby, at the Gulden Ball, in West-Smithtield. It begins, Come all LoyalSubjects of every degree. One woodcut. With allowance. The burden is, Then let us rejoice ivith a loyal c
. The Roxburghe ballads. d the CouutriesHappiness. Plainly shewing the great satisfaction and content that all LoyalSubjects do injoy by the new Election of Members of Parliament, whom Godpreserve and direct, that they may Act for the good of their King and Country,and the benefit and happiness of all the English Protestants. To the Tune of,Pigbys Fareivel, or, Packingtons Pound (see pp. 327, 457). Printed for PhilipBrooksby, at the Gulden Ball, in West-Smithtield. It begins, Come all LoyalSubjects of every degree. One woodcut. With allowance. The burden is, Then let us rejoice ivith a loyal consent, And all for the choice of our New Parliament. 2.—The Happy Return ; or, The Parliaments Welcome to London: whichwas adjourned till the Ninth day of November, 1685; but now sitting again atWestminster. Licensed by R. Le Strange, and Printed for C. Dennisson, at theStationers-Armes within Aldgate. Three woodcuts. To the Tune of, The Fairone let me in (see Vol. IV. p. 30). Begins, Thrice noble Lords and [This cut of Charles II. belongs to p. 613.] B 589 accompts closcD toitf) (KHilttam 15ct)toc. And Weal to him, from crime secure,Who keeps his soul as childhood pure ;Lites path he roves, a wanderer tree,We near him not—The Avengers, we ! [=The Furies. But Woe to him for whom we weaveThe doom for deeds that shun the light:Fast to the murderers feet we cleave—The fearful Daughters of the Night. And deems he flight from us can hide him?Still on dark wings We sail beside him !The murderers feet the snare enthralls,Or soon or late, to earth he falls ! Untiring, hounding on, we go ;For blood can no remorse atone !On ever—to the Shades below,And there, we grasp him, still our own! — Schillers Die Kraniche chs Ibykus ; by Lord Lytton. VETB1BUTION is not the simple and superficial process thatour earlier moralists considered it to he, but we cherish a beliefthat it is none the less a truth of profound satisfaction. Thereckoning is complicated, innumerable offs
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