A Iustification of our Brethren of Scotland.
Ʋnder the Willow Tree.
1.
DEarest Jockey, we unto thee
Are beholden every way,
And yet some strive to undo thee,
But I now the truth will say.
Thou unto our aid cam'st running,
Leaving thine owne pleasant soile,
And thy Al [...], that was a tunning,
In our most barren land to moile.
Wherefore we will ever love thee,
Over the shoulder, as they say,
But if thou com'st again, wee'l shove thee
Home, the clean contrary way.
We thee pray no more to aid us
In that kind thou didst before:
For, we find thou hadst betraid us,
Had we hearkned to thy lore.
2.
Yet in thee there's no more cunning,
Then in a devill of two yeares old:
Prethee come no more a mumming,
For we shall not our fingers hold.
We know well thou camest hither,
Onely our welfare to advance;
And therefore in the North didst gather
All their plate and coine perchance.
We know well, our most deare brother,
Thou never meantst to sell the King;
But that thy love thou couldst not smother,
When we gold to thee did bring.
We thee pray no more to aid us, &c.
3.
Friendly neighbour, that hast ever
Been a sure card at our need;
Though it hath been our luck, never
To find thee false in word and deed.
Thou great good will dost beare unto us,
Loving the ground whereon we tread:
But we pray thee truly show us,
Is't not for our English bread?
Alas deare soule, thou hast we know well,
Been contented with all paine:
As thy deeds did lately show well,
To lose thy own land ours to gaine.
But we pray thee no more aid us, &c.
Counter Tener.
WE will love thee, O dear brother,
And will never while we live
Thy good turnes within us smother,
But will full requitall give.
For thy aiding,
And perswading,
Thy assenting,
And thy entring.
We will give thee yet more money,
And will pay thee home, we sweare,
With a Cornish hug, thou blew-cap Bonney,
Wee'l imbrace thee, never feare.
Thou shalt be incorporated
One with us, and we with thee,
When thy Presbyterie is instated,
And Lay Elders ruling be.
For selling,
And rebelling,
For thy aiding,
And upbraiding:
We will make a rare exchanging,
And will give thee wheat for oats:
If in meane time there be no ranging,
And we do not cut your throats.
An English Dance to a Scottish Bagpipe.
A Hall, a Hall; let's dance, our task is done;
Thanks unto Lowdon, and to Hinderson:
Our bounds we will inlarge, our names advance,
While that the English to our bagpipe dance:
A Jig, a Jig, Edwards that Boanerges,
Is come, accompanied with Doctor B—:
Old G—halts hither too, and Cal—,
To trie the case of the Presbyterie.
Delicious Swads, that by the Rubrick prate,
The Alphas and Omegas of the State:
Most holy Caterwaulers, that can prie
Into mens acts, by wits Stenographie.
Olimpick gewgawes, fram'd of pitch and tarre,
Whose sayings still are found orbicular.
New-model'd Elders; whose braines are as drie
As blasted trees, or sand on mountaines high.
Blow thy wind Instrument, about, about,
This musick has inchanted, out of doubt,
The English Senate, that on so small ground
They gave to us two hundred thousand pound.
The while their Soveraigne doth drenched lie,
The essence of true griefs hydrographie.
Here comes too some o'th Army, whose intent
Is alike good to King and Parliament.
Why then dance ye together in a ring?
You hate the Parliament, and they the King.
And now we may prepare, unto our paine,
Scilla and Marius dayes to see againe.
Let Samson turn these Foxes taile to taile,
They need no fire-brands for to assaile;
Their tongues are fir'd by hell, their hands do fall
More ponderous then Talus iron maull.
Their hopes and fears can't rest, untill the Fates
Do thrust them down to Proserpines black gates.
But when these Herods shew their cruelty,
The guiltlesse children every one must die:
But prudence through dark windings some may lead
Safely with Ariadnes clew of thred.
If all were like to them, where should there be
Saints for the heaven, for earth posterity?
Great Xerxes then might justly shed his teares,
And say, that all will die within few yeares.
The Daunian Wolves, Spartan Molossian Dogs,
The Marsian Boares, Arcadian Boares and Hogs;
Th' African may 'mongst us his monsters find,
His painted birds, and fowles of strangest kind.
But while your selves you wearie, have a care
Of those that of you both so hated are.
Anno 1647.