A Psalme of Thankes-giuing

O London, blessed maist thou be, with plentie, peace, and rest,
A Staffe thou art to impotent, a Prop to poore opprest.
Eyes to the blind, Feete to the lame, Fathers to Orphants poore,
You are, O worthy Citizens, praise be to God therefore.
And as your bread, thus bounteously, you on these waters cast,
The Lord grant you may find the same, an hundred fold at last.
Chorus, From depth, &c.

Powre downe thy blessings on our King, prolong his peacefull Raigne,
And grant his Subiects loyall proue, thy peace for to maintaine.
Our Noble Queene with grace iinspire, the Councell graue instruct,
The Peeres and Nobles of this Land with pietie conduct.
Elesse (Lord) the Maior, and Aldermen, and Commons of this Citie,
For their great care of our welfare, and moue them still to pittie.
Chorus, From depth, &c.