From mouldy bread, and musty beer, From a holiday’s fast, and a Friday’s cheer, From a brother-hood, and a she-cavalier, Libera, etc.
From Nick Neuter, for you, and for you, From Thomas Turn-coat, that will never prove true, From a reverend Rabbi that’s worse than a Jew, Libera, etc.
From a country justice that still looks big, From swallowing up the Italian fig, Or learning of the Scottish jig, Libera, etc.
From being taken in a disguise, From believing of the printed lies, From the Devil and from the Excise, { 4} Libera, etc.
From a broken pate with a pint pot, For fighting for I know not what, And from a friend as false as a Scot, Libera, etc.
From one that speaks no sense, yet talks all that he can, From an old woman and a Parliament man, From an Anabaptist and a Presbyter man, Libera, etc.
From Irish rebels and Welsh hubbub-men, From Independents and their tub-men, From sheriffs’ bailiffs, and their club-men, Libera, etc.
From one that cares not what he saith, From trusting one that never payeth, From a private preacher and a public faith, Libera, etc.
From a vapouring horse and a Roundhead in buff, From roaring Jack Cavee, with money little enough, From beads and such idolatrous stuff, Libera, etc.
From holydays, and all that’s holy, From May-poles and fiddlers, and all that’s jolly From Latin or learning, since that is folly, Libera, etc.
And now to make an end of all, I wish the Roundheads had a fall, Or else were hanged in Goldsmith’s Hall. Amen.
Against all sectaries And their defendants, Both Presbyterians And Independents.
Mr Walter Wilkins, in his Political Ballads of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, says, the imprint of this broadside intimates that it was published in “the year of Hope, 1647,” and Thomson, the collector, added the precise date, the 7th of September.
THAT thou wilt be pleased to grant our requests, And quite destroy all the vipers’ nests, That England and her true religion molests, Te rogamus audi nos.
That thou wilt be pleased to censure with pity The present estate of our once famous city; Let her still be govern’d by men just and witty, Te rogamus, etc.
That thou wilt be pleased to consider the Tower, And all other prisons in the Parliament’s power, Where King Charles his friends find their welcome but sour, Te rogamus, etc.