THE KING'S Entertainment at GUILDHALL OR; London's Option in Fruition.  

Come all ye Muses nine, assist me pray,  
Here's, work enough to hold you all in play;  
Lend me your aid also, you Graces three,  
Aglia, Thalia, and Euphrosyne;  
And yet you're all too few to guide that quill  
That means in this Days Praise to try its skill;  
Wonder and silence would it more proclaim,  
Than words or Poetry itself by name.  
Scarce was the Sun arose from Tithon's bed,  
But London was with Galileans spread  
Gazing at those Solemnities that were  
Performed in reverence to their good Lord Mayor;  
Who for his most unparall'd Loyalty,  
His signal Faithfulness and Charity,  
Unto the King, the City, and the Poor,  
Was of the Citizens Elect, by more  
Unanimous consents than have been known  
Conferred these many years on One alone.  
Who (being attended gallantly by all  
The Senators and Companies of each Hall,  
All in their several Barges) hence was bor'n  
Before th' Exchequer Barons to be sworn,  
Westminster-Ceremonies being past,  
To London he returns again at last.  
The River Thames being all overspread  
With Boats and Barges was quite covered.  
Hark how the Drums do beat, & Trumpets play,  
As if Bellona here, or Mars did stay.  
The very Sirens, they themselves would be  
Entrapped to hear so sweet a melody.  
Look how the Streamers and the Flags do flutter,  
And little Fishes frisking seem to mutter.  
Nereus and all the Nymphs did sport and play,  
Rejoicing at the Triumphs of that day.  
The very water seemed to be proud  
To have the honour to bear such a crowd.  
Now the Lord Mayor on Shore being safely Landed,  
To the Guild-Hall is as before Attended;  
Him all the Pageants with applause saluted,  
Others with Admiration to him shouted;  
And in this sumptuous state they all  
Pass through the Streets to Dinner at Guild-Hall  
Where they the Judges meet, & all the Princely T 〈…〉  
The Duke, the Queen, the King, whom God gran● to R 〈…〉   

To the Right Honourable Sir Robert Viner, K 〈…〉 and Baronet, Lord Mayor of the City of Londo●  
Great SIR,  

SUpporter of our famous City,  
Now almost gone to ruin, more's the pity!  
Be you our Sun, and with your rays expel  
Those threatening Clouds which in our Orb do sw 〈…〉  
Our greatest expectations, Sir, do lie  
In your great Prudence, and your Clemency;  
London's Viceroy, may you our Joseph be,  
Lay up our Corn against a scarcity;  
That through your Care, this City London may  
Help all the Neighbourhood when they're at a sta 〈…〉  
And that it may with Wealth so much abound  
That Mints of Money may i'th' Streets be found:  
Which to effect be you our Solomon,  
Who Silver caused to be as flush as Stone;  
And when you have so done, may you enjoy  
There greatest blessings free from all annoy.  
May London, You, her great Astrea find;  
May London to you thankful prove and kind;  
May you of London take a special Care;  
May London proud be of so good a Mayor;  
O blessed Conjunction! In one man to see  
Honour and Arts, Wisdom and Piety!  
London's great Hector, and Augustus may  
You outlive Nestor many an happy day.   By John Norton, AEtat. suae   

LONDON, Printed by T. Milbourn, for Rowland Reynolds at the Sun and Bible in the Poultry, 1674.