<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2008-06-02</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080512.pdcc.</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B04169">
<STC T="W">L2988</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99886889</BIBNO>
<VID>181400</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 23 -->
<HEAD>Long lookt for Come at La&s;t; OR T<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1 letter">E PEACE PROCLAIMED.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>_THou&s;ands of Storms have u&s;her'd in a Calme,</L>
<L>And Years of Wounds have met a day of Balme;</L>
<L><HI>Cymerian</HI> Clouds have darted out a beam,</L>
<L>Which, when it came, we were as tho&s;e that dream:</L>
<L>Our fooli&s;h fears and fancies too unju&s;t,</L>
<L>Dur&s;t neither God, nor his Vice-Gerent tru&s;t;</L>
<L>As if our Sins and Sufferings did agree</L>
<L>To give us o're to Infidelitie.</L>
<L>But we have now an Honourable Peace,</L>
<L>If Eyes and Ears may be but witne&s;&s;es.</L>
<L>Peace, now as white as Harve&s;t on our Stage</L>
<L>Appears, a Peace that &s;hall grow white with Age:</L>
<L>All then (but tho&s;e that hate her) will accord</L>
<L>To welcome Peace, fair Daughter of the Sword,</L>
<L>Who would have thought, to &s;ee us di&s;agree,</L>
<L>Di&s;cord &s;hould have produc'd &s;uch Harmony?</L>
<L>The Sword was drunk with Blood, both Nations &s;ay,</L>
<L>And yet the longe&s;t Night will have a Day;</L>
<L>Though it was long a breaking, now 'tis come,</L>
<L>And with its Rayes enlightend Chri&s;tendome:</L>
<L>The Iron-&s;ided Buff-Coat truckles down,</L>
<L>And Armes on Knees pay Homage to the Gown:</L>
<L>If the unju&s;te&s;t Peace (as &s;ome minds are)</L>
<L>Ought be preferr'd even to the ju&s;te&s;t War,</L>
<L>What Thanks and Duty owe we <HI>CHARLES</HI> the Great,</L>
<L>Do's thus from War, both Peace and Honour get?</L>
<L>But as it hapned 'twixt the Coach and Swaine;</L>
<L>This would fair weather have, that would have Rain:</L>
<L>So tempers varie, and are come to that,</L>
<L>Mo&s;t men would have indeed they know not what:</L>
<L>Alas! how dampt the Blood fle&s;ht Souldier looks,</L>
<L>To find his Spears turn'd into Pruning Hooks?</L>
<L>The Country Man may milk his full dugg'd Cow,</L>
<L>No fear of Plunder or Free Quarter now;</L>
<L>Each Man &s;ecure &s;its under his owne Vine,</L>
<L>Both in the comfort of the &s;hade and wine;</L>
<L>Whil&s;t every Grape, ambitious of his Good,</L>
<L>For a Peace-offring, pours out its owne Blood.</L>
<L>Fear no Complaining in our &s;treets hereafter,</L>
<L>Each heart is fill'd with Joy, each tongue with laughter,</L>
<L>The Country &s;hall not flock like Mice and Rats</L>
<L>To <HI>London,</HI> with Petitions in their hats:</L>
<L>Nor need tho&s;e Guild-Halders their Votes increa&s;e,</L>
<L>Who crying Peace, had better held their peace:</L>
<L>That Peace is come (though then it was no crime</L>
<L>To wi&s;h it) onely they mi&s;took the Time:</L>
<L>Time, that as't hapned made their Loyalty</L>
<L>An Errour, great as the Fifth Monarchy.</L>
<L>O that we had all of us hearts like them,</L>
<L>Pray for the Peace of our <HI>Jeru&s;alem;</HI></L>
<L>Neither &s;editious Church, nor factious State,</L>
<L>O then our Peace would end in endle&s;s date.</L>
<L>In vain we fault the City, or the Court,</L>
<L>Sin that hath found us out, hath plagu'd us &s;or't;</L>
<L>Whil&s;t for the Wheele of State, each leaves the main,</L>
<L>And moves by th' Epicycle of his own brain,</L>
<L>Which is &s;o &s;trangely a wool-gathering run,</L>
<L>That, mad as <HI>Phaeton,</HI> he mu&s;t guide the Sun.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But (Brain-&s;icks) by your leave, this talk mu&s;t cea&s;e,</L>
<L>No time to quarrel, 'tis a time of Peace,</L>
<L>A day of Joy, a harve&s;t of content;</L>
<L>No Farmers &s;tarve, nor Land-lords pine for Rent:</L>
<L>Our hungry Neighbours now, hardly Cornfed,</L>
<L>Like the <HI>Samaritan</HI> Criples, &s;hall have bread;</L>
<L>Yet they for it, &s;hall bring their Money too,</L>
<L>No more than <HI>Jo&s;eph</HI> made his Brethren do.</L>
<L>The City &s;hall in Nobler &s;ort be built,</L>
<L>And all her Towers, with <HI>Guiny</HI> Gold be guilt:</L>
<L>Whil&s;t empty Pockets &s;hall her Silver meet</L>
<L>Plentifull, as the &s;tones once in her &s;treet:</L>
<L>Churches 'tis like a while may be forborn,</L>
<L>For, building Churches mo&s;t men have for&s;worn;</L>
<L>Yet &s;hould that pious work chance be begun,</L>
<L>The World well knows Church-work goes &s;lowly on.</L>
<L>Her Fires are quencht now, but we Fires di&s;cover,</L>
<L>Trophies of Peace, all the whole Kingdome over!</L>
<L>And her poor Citizens I hope &s;hall get</L>
<L>Able (in fine) to pay their Fines &s;o great.</L>
<L>On building Hou&s;es, he's a fool that &s;tands,</L>
<L>Patience and Peace will build them to their hands.</L>
<L>Is not this better than to underlea&s;e</L>
<L>The womb of Time for an abortive peace?</L>
<L>The &s;portfull <HI>Dolphin</HI> brings his Offering,</L>
<L>And Seas are &s;ilent whil&s;t the <HI>Syrens</HI> &s;ing</L>
<L>T' invite our Colliars; &s;ee what they can do,</L>
<L>To make a Summer of the Winter too:</L>
<L>Be&s;ides <HI>Newca&s;tle,</HI> and her Hell deep hole,</L>
<L><HI>Guiny</HI> and both the <HI>Indies</HI> will bring Cole.</L>
<L>Thank God, whil&s;t others Famine did encrea&s;e,</L>
<L>Our Plenty all this while has &s;taid for Peace.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And if it be'nt by Prejudice or'e-aw'd,</L>
<L>Here's this Broad-&s;ide to &s;et the Peace abroad.</L>
</LG>
<EPIGRAPH>
<Q><HI>Pacem to po&s;&s;imus omnes.</HI></Q>
</EPIGRAPH>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="license">
<P>Licen&s;ed the 24^t^h of <HI>Augu&s;t,</HI> 1667.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed in the Year 1667.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
