Now the Christian religion
Must seek a new region,
And the old saints give way to the new;
And we that are loyal
Vail to those that destroy all,
When the Christian gives place to the Jew.
But this is our glory,
In this wretched story
Calamities fall on the best;
And those that destroy us
Do better employ us,
To sing till they are supprest.
Ballad: A Mad World, My Masters
From the King's pamphlets, British Museum.
We have a King, and yet no King,
For he hath lost his power;
For 'gainst his will his subjects are
Imprison'd in the Tower.
We had some laws (but now no laws)
By which he held his crown;
And we had estates and liberties,
But now they're voted down.
We had religion, but of late
That's beaten down with clubs;
Whilst that profaneness authorized
Is belched forth in tubs.
We were free subjects born, but now
We are by force made slaves,
By some whom we did count our friends,
But in the end proved knaves.
And now to such a grievous height
Are our misfortunes grown,
That our estates are took away
By tricks before ne'er known.
For there are agents sent abroad
Most humbly for to crave
Our alms; but if they are denied,
And of us nothing have,
Then by a vote EX TEMPORE
We are to prison sent,
Mark'd with the name of enemy,
To King and Parliament:
And during our imprisonment,
Their lawless bulls do plunder
A license to their soldiers,
Our houses for to plunder.
Pages:
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33