%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A / Congratulatory POEM / TO THE / RIGHT HONOURABLE / Sir WILLIAM PRITCHARD. / Lord Mayor of the City of London. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1682-1682 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/23/2012 32184

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R220445 IN that great Train which loudly does reherse / Your just Encomiums in Lofty Verse; Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 84064 A / Congratulatory POEM / TO THE / RIGHT HONOURABLE / Sir WILLIAM PRITCHARD. / Lord Mayor of the City of London. A Congratulatory POEM TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Sir WILLIAM PRITCHARD. Lord Mayor of the City of London. A Congratulatory POEM TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE Sir WILLIAM PRITCHARD. Lord Mayor of the City of London. 1682-1682 P. Brooksby

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 5/23/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America London politics/ government Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/23/2012 10:08:06 AM XBallad Haney, Andrew Created XML Version of Ballad 5/23/2012 10:08:06 AM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/23/2012 10:08:06 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/23/2012 10:08:06 AM Transcriptionist Two Bell, Erik Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/23/2012 10:08:06 AM Transcriptionist One Wong, Bethany Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/20/2011 Checker Jonathan Forbes Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/30/2011 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Congratulatory POEM</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">TO THE</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">RIGHT HONOURABLE</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left">Sir <hi rend="italic">WILLIAM PRITCHARD.</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left">Lord Mayor of the City of <hi rend="italic">London.</hi></seg>
IN that great Train which loudly does reherse Your just Encomiums in Lofty Verse; Whose every Line the Lauriat does shake, And of a Faculty a trade wou[l]d make: Mongst these my Lord, that for such treasures hope Give your poor Scribler leave to Interlope: Admit that Humble Muse, that never knew To couple Verse, till now Inspird by you. To say, my Lord, that you, if Fate should frown Must be the Genius to Preserve this Town; And none so fit to Bless the City Throne, Except brave Loyal Moor, might still Reign on. Hail then, thou City Monarch! may thy Reign With Peace and Plenty, all the Land maintain. Observe how all along the Streets the Crowd With Joyful Sounds, does Welcome in their Lord; When on the Thames, how all along the Shore, Twas hard to say, who did express it more, Or whether Men or Cannons that did Roar. Caesar Himself and Royal York are come, And all the Court, to bid you Welcome Home: Your Pageants, Whifflers, and Oxilaries, They come on Course, and your Artillery, But Caesar came to Grace your Loyalty. The Giddy Rabble that Illeterate Beast, Who Factious Traytors had with fear possest; Convincing Time in spight of Whining Zeal, Has shewn the Blessing of a Common-Weal; That theyr designs tho ner so Meekly drest, Was only Mutiny for Interest; That Long-eard Rout, and their Achittophel, That think it Sin to Live and not Rebell:
Those Pious Elders, that Jenaeva Rabble, That hop, once more, to make old Pauls a Stable; Or rather see her in her Ashes lye, Then hear in Her the true Episcopie: Besides, she is too Great, the Charge Profuse, They could Convert her into better Use. These, my good Lord, your Predecessor found, To be the Incects Barrend all the Ground; And with that Sword which now is in your Hand, He strove to Weed out from our Fertile Land: But Old Achittophel, that Reverend Bard, Whom Heaven intended Man and Nature Mard With Treats, and something else, I dare not say, I think twas Treason; bore a part away. But he has set his House in Order now, And is gone down in Order thereunto --- --- Assist you Powers, and tye the Damons up, For should they find him they would cut the Rope: Hes for their work on Earth, they understand, And what can signifie one Fire-Brand? My Lord, I Blush at my Impertinence, Yet thus far I dare plead my own Defence; That did you know, the Man that Fate has spent In Tragick Scenes, that little Fortune lent; You would not have him praise the Instrument. I wish your Lordship many Years of Bliss, A Jubilee of Days, and all like this; That each Propitious Star may be your Guide, That Fair-eyd Truth may never be denyd; That when you quit your trust, youl find a Brother, To King, to Church, and State, just such another.
FINIS. Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, near the Hospital-gate, in West-Smithfield. 1682.