Classic Poem

Would you know these royal knaves
Of free-men would turn us slaves;
Who our union do defame
With rebellion's wicked name?
Read these verses, and ye will spring them,
Then on gibbets straight cause hing them.
They complain of sin and folly,
In these times, so passing holy,
They their substance will not give
Libertines that we may live.
Hold those subjects too too wanton,
Under an old king dare canton.
Neglect they do our circular tables,
Scorn our acts and laws as fables,
Of our battels talk but meekly,
With four sermons pleas'd are weekly,
Swear King Charles is neither Papist,
Arminian, Lutheran, or Atheist:
But that in his chamber-prayers,
Which are pour'd midst sighs and tears,
To avert God's fearful wrath,
Threat'ning us with blood and death,
Persuade they would the multitude,
This king too holy is and good.
They avouch we'll weep and groan
When hundred kings we serve for one,
That each shire but blood affords,
To serve the ambition of young lords,
Whose debts e're now had been redoubled,
If the state had not been troubled.
Slow they are our oath to swear,
Slower for it arms to bear,
They do concord love and peace,
Would our enemies embrace,
Turn men proselites by the word,
Not by musket, pike, and sword.
They swear that for religion's sake
We may not massacre, burn, sack;
That the beginning of these pleas
Sprang from the ill-sped A B C's;
For servants that it is not well
Against their masters to rebel;
That that devotion is but slight
Doth force men first to swear, then fight;
That our Confession is indeed
Not the apostolick creed,
Which of negations we contrive,
Which Turk and Jew may both subscrive;
That monies should men's daughters marry,
They on frantick war miscarry,
Whilst dear the souldiers they pay,
At last who will snatch all away,
And as times turn worse and worse,
Catechise us by the purse;
That debts are paid with bold stern looks,
That merchants pray on their compt-books;
That justice dumb and sullen frowns
To see in croslets hang'd her gowns;
That preachers' ordinary theme
Is 'gainst monarchy to declaim;
That since leagues we began to swear,
Vices did ne're so black appear;
Oppression, blood-shed, ne're more rife,
Foul jars between the man and wife;
Religion so contemn'd was never
Whilst all are raging in a fever.
They tell by devils and some sad chance
That that detestable league of France,
Which cost so many thousand lives,
And two kings by religious knives,
Is amongst us, though few descry,
Though they speak truth, yet say they lye.
He who says that night is night,
That criple folk walk not upright,
That the owls into the spring
Do not nightingales out-sing;
That the seas we may not plow,
Ropes make of the rainy bow;
That the foxes keep not sheep,
That men waking do not sleep;
That all's not gold doth gold appear,
Believe him not altho' he swear.
To such syrens stop your ear,
Their societies forbear.
Ye may be tossed like a wave.
Verity may you deceive;
Just fools they may make of you,
Then hate them worse than Turk or Jew.
Were it not a dangerous thing,
Should we again obey the king,
Lords lose should sovereignty,
Souldiers haste back to Germany,
Justice should in our towns remain,
Poor men possess their own again,
Brought out of hell that word of plunder
More terrible than devil or thunder,
Should with the Covenant fly away,
And charity amongst us stay,
Peace and plenty should us nourish,
True religion 'mongst us flourish.
When you find these lying fellows,
Take and flower with them the gallows,
On others you may too lay hold,
In purse or chest if they have gold.
Who wise or rich are in this nation,
Malignants are by protestation.