A Psalme of Thanks-giving

They moov'd the God of pitty, He a King to pitty mooy'd,
And he remov'd our heapes of want, which work the Lord approv'd.
The King young Edward was the Sixt, but Englands first Isiah,
From Heaven by grace endued with the spirit of Eliah.
Which Spr'it on our succeeding Kings, let ever (Lord) be breath'd,
To them and Citizens O let poore Orphanes be bequeath'd.
Chorus. Rise Orphanes, raise your voyce, &c.

Which they did well discharge, and so doth Charles our Soveraigne,
You Senate who with Citizens, that Princes charge maintaine.
Maintain therefore, O Lord the state, and stock of King and Queene,
On Parliament, and Clergie let thy worke of grace be seene.
The City and the Scarlet Robe with wealth and honour guard,
Our Patrones in thy mercy great, with happinesse reward.
Chorus. Rise Orphanes, raise your voyce, &c.