Upon the Troublesome Times
O! Times most bad,
Without the scope
Of hope
Of better to be had!
Where shall I goe,
Or whither run
To shun
This publique overthrow?
No places are
(This I am sure)
Secure
In this our wasting Warre.
Some storms w'ave past;
Yet we must all
Down fall,
And perish at the last.
Without the scope
Of hope
Of better to be had!
Where shall I goe,
Or whither run
To shun
This publique overthrow?
No places are
(This I am sure)
Secure
In this our wasting Warre.
Some storms w'ave past;
Yet we must all
Down fall,
And perish at the last.
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