Classic Poem

Ha il to my Brother Round-heads , you that sit
At home, and study Treason , 'bove my Wit
Or Valour to maintain; it's you whose hearts
And brains are stufft with all Devillish darts
Of Rapine , and Rebellion ; yet whose dark
Religious Villanies, hates the least spark
Of Justice or Obedience to the King;
To you, and none but you, true News I bring,
With all my Fellow Rebells that survive,
'Mongst whom in faith my self scapt scarce alive:
For when the Cavaliers, and Popish Schollers
Charg'd us so hot, my Coach full of Rex-dollers
I could have given to have been ten miles off;
And though the Zealots of our Party scoff,
And taunt the King's well-wishers, take't from me,
Happy were all the Round-heads that did flee;
They scapt a scowering, which through very fear
Took me and all my Regiment in th' Rear,
At the first Charge; for that when we should fight,
We sneakt away, and had more mind to — — —
For had I dard, to venture my dear life,
I should have fought once for the Whore my Wife ;
Yet I dare swear that we had won the day,
Had not so many fallen and run away:
And yet for all this Blood that hath been spilt,
My Sword is guiltlesse, for fast by the hilt
I held it in my Scabbard, and still cry'd
Well done, Fight on , unto the Fools that dy'd;
Whilst I stole towards Warwick , to avoyd
The Field, with the sad Spectacle quite cloyd:
I lost my Coach, and (which doth make me fret)
I lost Blake 's Letter in my Cabinet,
That reveal'd all our Treason , he good man
Suffer'd at Oxford , and unlesse I can
Repent, 'tis said, that I must dye like him,
Be Hang'd and Quarter'd, and you Mr. Pym :
We must be cautious, for the Cavaliers
Have desperate souls, concerning those base fears
That brought mee back again; besides, the King
Has a Just Cause you know, and though we bring
The silly Multitude into the Noose,
Our own hearts tell us we are like to loose
Our heads, if Charles prevail; which we must do
If he proceeds thus, to kill ten for two
You must provide new Armour, and more Armes,
And a new Generall, that dares hear Alarms
Of Drums and Trumpets; one that may have sence
And valour to excell my Excellence.
The Peevish Women as I pass'd the Strand ,
Blesse me knee deep, and would have kiss'd my hand,
As King, whilst I most curteously vayl'd
My Hat, and Feather to them, others rayl'd;
And them as wisht, or knew I had the worst,
For one that pray'd for me, devoutly curst.
The truest News of all I hope to tell ye,
Is that I have more mind to fill my belly,
Then fight again, for that same Dutchland Devil;
Rupert , the Prince of mischief, and all evil,
My Victuals took away, and burst my Waggons ,
Whilst the Kings Forces fought with fiery Dragoons ,
And beat me out o'th' Field ; although we blind
The Multitude, and say w' had sea and wind,
Yet I protest the Elements themselves
Conspir'd to ruine us, Rebellious Elves :
And to conclude, from Jeering Cavalier ,
Has put upon us, in a Song , this Jeer,
Rather than they should have the betters,
That you and I were drawn and hang'd, &c.