Though for a time you may see Whitehall,
With cobwebs hanging over the wall,
Instead of silk, and silver brave,
As formerly it used to have:
In every room, the sweet perfume,
Delightful for that princely train,
The which you shall see, when the time it shall be,
That the King comes home in peace again.
Full forty years the royal crown,
Hath been his fathers and his own,
And I am sure there’s none but he
Hath right to that sovereignty:
Then who better may the sceptre to sway,
Than he that hath such right to reign:
The hopes of your peace, for the wars will then cease,
When the King comes home in peace again.
