192
Merry Drollerie,
It was not thus, I wis, when Betty rul’d in Britain.
But friendship hath faultred,
Loves Altars are altered,
And he that is the cause, I would his neck were haltred.
But friendship hath faultred,
Loves Altars are altered,
And he that is the cause, I would his neck were haltred.
When Love did nourish
England did flourish,
Till holy hate came in and made us all so currish.
Now every Widgeon
Talks of Religion,
And doth as little good as Mahomet and his Pidgeon.
Each coxcombe is suiting
His words for confuting,
But heaven is sooner gain’d by suffering than by disputing.
True friendship we smother,
And strike at our Brother [:]
Apostles never went to God by killing one another.
England did flourish,
Till holy hate came in and made us all so currish.
Now every Widgeon
Talks of Religion,
And doth as little good as Mahomet and his Pidgeon.
Each coxcombe is suiting
His words for confuting,
But heaven is sooner gain’d by suffering than by disputing.
True friendship we smother,
And strike at our Brother [:]
Apostles never went to God by killing one another.
Let Love but warm ye
Nothing can harm ye,
When Love is General, there’s Angels in the Army.
Love keeps his quarters,
And fears no tortures,
The bravest fights are written in the Book of Martyrs.
Could we be so civill
As to do good for evill
It were the only happy way to o’recome the divel.
The Flowers Love hath watred,
Nothing can harm ye,
When Love is General, there’s Angels in the Army.
Love keeps his quarters,
And fears no tortures,
The bravest fights are written in the Book of Martyrs.
Could we be so civill
As to do good for evill
It were the only happy way to o’recome the divel.
The Flowers Love hath watred,
Sedition
