Classic Poem

To the Tune of I tell the Dick .

This Christmas time, 'tis fit that we
Should Feast and Sing and merry be
It is a time of mirth;
For never since the world began,
More joyfull news was brought to man,
Then at our Saviours birth.

But such have been these times of late,
That Holy dayes are out of date,
And holynesse to boot;
For they that do despise, and scorn
To keep the day that Christ was born,
Want holynesse no doubt.

That Parliament that took away
The observation of that day,
We know it was not free;
For if it had, such Acts as those
Had ne're been seen in verse or prose,
You may conclude with me.

'Twas that Assembly did maintain
'Twas Law to kill their Soveraign,
Who by that Law must dye,
Though Gods anointed ones are such,
Which Subjects should not dare to touch,
Much lesse to Crucifie.

'Twas that which turn'd our Bishops out
Of house and home both branch and root,
And gave no reason why;
And all our Clergy did expell,
That would not do like that Rebell:
This no man can deny.

It was that Parliament that took
Out of our Churches our Service Book ,
A Book without compare;
And made Gods house, (to all our griefs)
That house of Prayer, a Den of Thiefs ,
Both here and every where.

They had no head for many years
Nor heart (I mean the House of Peers)
And yet it did not dye;
Of these long since it was bereft,
And nothing but the Tayle was left,
You know't as well as I.

And in this Tayle there was a tongue,
Lenthall I mean, whose fame hath wrung
In Country and in City;
Not for his worth or eloquence,
But for a Rebell to his Prince,
And neither wise nor witty.

This Speakers words must needs be winde,
Since they proceeded from behind;
Besides, you may remember,
From thence no Act could be discreet,
Nor could the sense o'th' House be sweet,
Where Atkins was a Member.

This tale's now done, the Speakers dumb,
Thanks to the Trumpet and the Drum ;
And now I hope to see
A Parliament that will restore
All things that were undone before,
That we may Christians be.