On The Trust Poem by Thomas Parnell

Think England what it is to shake,
& better use your King,
His power raisd the frozen snake,
& Must he when he hears it speak,
find how the tongue can sting?
Trustees you make in long debates,
Which he is forcd to give;
While by your trust the rebell getts,
The subject looses bought estates,
& the oppressors live.
Pitty us heaven, & lend your aid,
Anothers intrest sett us free,
& now it gives us slavery,
Thus weakness is a property,
& Greatness still obeyd.
The men whose heavy arms we feel
By Politicks are good or ill,
Deceiving, or deceivd;
Their law is founded on their will,
& our's by that inslavd.
Against their princes acts they rise,
& in their princes name;
The sly intreaguing factions choice,
& erring patriots shame.
So Dunghill foggs by fiery rays
To saucy empire scale,
Obscure the royall planetts face,
With pride supply a lofty place,
& with out pitty fall.