Classic Poem

My Closs Committe

How busied's man
To seek and find
An Accusatian
Against all those
He deems his bodies good, or Goods oppose
And winkes at such as hazard soule and mind

Nothing of late
Is done or spoak
But either King or State
Concerned are
The while each gainst his neighbour wages warr
Soe'r all the bonds of Love and Frendship broak.

And how comes this?
But that we doe
Or utter what's amiss
In every thing
Making each Fancy Lord, each Will a King
And all that checks not Reason, Treason too:

Wer't not more wise
To lay about
Which way for to surprise
That Traytrous band
Of Sinns that in our bosoms bear Command
And entertaining Grace, cause thos r'march out

Our Lust, our Pride
Ambition
Or what somere beside
Seems to guive way
To that unjust Militia and Array
Bring we t'our Closs Committees inquisition
Thus when Our harts These for malignants brand
Committ them not but bannish Them Thy Land.