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<DATE>2009-06-05</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B090516.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B01526">
<STC T="W">B130</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99890948</BIBNO>
<VID>181716</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="1" REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 35 -->
<HEAD><HI>Thanks upon Thanks:</HI> OR, THE SUBURBS's JOY FOR THE City's Election.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>YOUR Joy (grave <HI>Citizens</HI>) is Ours, we find;</L>
<L>This Choyce to <HI>You,</HI> This Choyce to <HI>Vs</HI> proves Kind!</L>
<L>We give Commi&s;&s;ion, that Our Thanks &s;hould wait on</L>
<L>The Kind Electors of Sir <HI>Robert Clayton,</HI></L>
<L>Sir <HI>Thomas Player, Pilkington,</HI> and <HI>Love:</HI></L>
<L>Thus We Our Joy, by This Return do prove.</L>
<L>For to throw <HI>Papi&s;ts</HI> out, is all Your Aim;</L>
<L>Your Thoughts are Ours, they are the very &s;ame:</L>
<L>You Burn the <HI>Pope,</HI> We come to &s;ee him Burn'd;</L>
<L>Our Wrath, like Yours, again&s;t his Tribe is turn'd.</L>
<L>We hate a <HI>Je&s;uit,</HI> a <HI>Prie&s;t</HI> We hate;</L>
<L>We cou'd Crack <HI>Mu&s;&s;le</HI>-Shells upon his Pate:</L>
<L>We hate the <HI>Ma&s;s,</HI> and ev'ry thing like that;</L>
<L>Had I but time (Sirs,) I wou'd tell You what.</L>
<LG>
<L>But now I'le tell You, We do Love all tho&s;e,</L>
<L>That are Abhorrers of a <HI>Roman</HI> No&s;e;</L>
<L>And &s;uch, la&s;t <HI>Fryday,</HI> it appears You Cho&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<L>We <HI>Thank</HI> you for Your Choice; This is the way</L>
<L>To pack both <HI>Pope</HI> and <HI>Devil</HI> quite away.</L>
<L>They gain no Ground, where &s;uch Men do appear:</L>
<L>They do no <HI>Bulls</HI> from <HI>Roman</HI> Empires fear.</L>
<L>Such Men, We do believe, they are, as &s;tand</L>
<L>Zealou&s;ly for the Int're&s;t of our Land.</L>
<L>Their Courage, Wit, and Parts have all been Try'd;</L>
<L>I'me &s;ure, they <HI>Four</HI> wou'd have been Deify'd,</L>
<L>Had they done half &s;o much for th' <HI>Roman</HI> Crew,</L>
<L>As They have done for Us, and done for You.</L>
<L>Wi&s;ely they did Behave them&s;elves, we find;</L>
<L>All of one Way, all of one Heart, and Mind.</L>
<L>They &s;hook off Fear, and trampl'd upon Awe;</L>
<L>On Their Side &s;tood the <HI>Go&s;pel,</HI> and the <HI>Law.</HI></L>
<L><PB N="2" REF="2" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 36 -->
This made them Bold as <HI>Lyons;</HI> every Man,</L>
<L>Through Thorns and Bryars, for the <HI>City</HI> ran!</L>
<L>Mildly, and Mode&s;tly, they play'd their Parts:</L>
<L>I do not wonder, that They won Your Hearts.</L>
<L>Had You Elected others in their &s;teed,</L>
<L>Surely you'd done a very Evil Deed:</L>
<L>For, Who cou'd equalize the Parts and Care</L>
<L>Of <HI>Clayton, Pilkington,</HI> of <HI>Love,</HI> and <HI>Player?</HI></L>
<L>Your Choyce was like You, Grave, Di&s;creet, and Wi&s;e;</L>
<L>That all Men &s;ee, that have not <HI>Popi&s;h</HI> Eyes.</L>
<L>And We, with all Our Hearts, do now Rejoyce,</L>
<L>That You have made &s;o Good, &s;o Ble&s;s'd a Choyce.</L>
<L>I know that &s;ome Men's Hearts, for Grief, do Bleed,</L>
<L>That You &s;o &s;oon, that You &s;o well Agreed.</L>
<L>But who are they? Why? They are Imps of Hell,</L>
<L>Who when you Act like Angels, think not well.</L>
<L>They are the Spawn of a devouring <HI>Pope,</HI></L>
<L>That Merit nothing better than a Rope.</L>
<L>The Seed of Evil Doers, who dayly &s;trive</L>
<L>To keep the <HI>Prie&s;ts</HI> and <HI>Je&s;uits</HI> Alive;</L>
<L>Men void of Grace, Wit, Hone&s;ty, and Sen&s;e,</L>
<L>Who itch to pay the <HI>Pope</HI> his <HI>Peter-pence.</HI></L>
<L>The&s;e Men are they, who are not pleas'd to &s;ee,</L>
<L>That you &s;o well, in your good Choice agree.</L>
<L>Such we have too too many here (<HI>God</HI> knows)</L>
<L>Who long for nothing more than Blood and Blows:</L>
<L>I wi&s;h they had them, were they but De&s;troyed,</L>
<L>Then Peace and Plenty would be &s;oon enjoy'd.</L>
<L>The time may come, the time I hope to &s;ee,</L>
<L>That <HI>King</HI> and <HI>Parliament</HI> may well agree:</L>
<L>Then have at &s;uch unea&s;y Knaves as tho&s;e,</L>
<L>Who long have been the <HI>King,</HI> and Kingdoms Foes.</L>
<L><HI>God</HI> give the <HI>King</HI> to &s;ee tho&s;e Mi&s;chief-makers,</L>
<L>That they of <HI>Stafford</HI>'s Fate may be Partakers.</L>
<L>Then will the City Flouri&s;h, Suburbs Sing</L>
<L>Prai&s;es to <HI>God,</HI> and Thanks unto our <HI>King.</HI></L>
<L>Oh! How I long methinks to &s;ee that day,</L>
<L>When <HI>Papi&s;ts</HI> pack their Awls to go away;</L>
<L>May every City do as you have done;</L>
<L>This is one way I'me &s;ure to make them Run.</L>
<LG>
<L>May ev'ry County chu&s;e &s;uch Worthy Men,</L>
<L>Chu&s;e them, and Chu&s;e, Chu&s;e them yet agen;</L>
<L>Chu&s;e them as oft as they're Di&s;&s;olv'd, and then,</L>
</LG>
<L>Wee'l have an Hundred to a <HI>Roman</HI> Ten.</L>
<L>May they make &s;uch a Choice in ev'ry Burrough,</L>
<L>May they Chu&s;e &s;uch ev'n all the Kingdom thorough.</L>
<L>Then farewel <HI>Pope,</HI> farewell thy Plots to boot;</L>
<L>We &s;hou'd have Peace, when thou wou'd&s;t go without.</L>
</LG>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>J. B.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
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<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>London,</HI> Printed in the Year, 1680.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
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