Classic Poem

The Tune, Cannot keep her Lips together

Will you please to hear a Song,
Through it want both rime and reason,
It was pend to do no wrong,
But for description at this season,
Of he or she what e're they be,
That wish Church-orders quite confounded,
Yet makes a shew, where e're they go,
Of Fervent zeal: I mean a Roundhead.

First hee'l have a smoothing tongue,
Next hee'l learn for to dissemble,
And when he hears of willfull wrong,
He'll sigh and look as he would tremble,
The next of all then let him fall,
To praise mens hearts in secret bravery,
A speaking still against all ill,
That is the Cloak to hide their Knavery.

Let Charity be used much,
In words at length and not in action,
It is the Common use of such,
Not to do, but give direction,
They'l be loath to swear an Oath,
By yea and nay, you may believe them,
But for their gains, they will take paines,
To cheat and ly, and never grieve them.

The Common-Prayer they like it not,
For they are wise and can make better,
And such a Teacher they have got,
Confutes it all in word and letter;
For he can rayle mens hearts to quaile
With deep damnation for their sinning,
But to amend they ne're intend,
And to transgress they're now beginning.

But here is a very worthy man,
That undertakes more than he is able,
That in a Tub sometimes will stand.
In Hey-barn, Sheep-house, or a Stable,
That all the Rout that comes about
To hear his Doctrines, Saints he calls them,
They vow and swear they nere did hear
Such worthy things as he hath told them.

They will not hear of Wedding Rings
For to be used in their Mariage,
But say they are Superstitious things,
And doth Religion much disparage,
They are but vain, and things prophane,
Wherefore now no Wit be-speaks them
So to be ty'd unto the Bride,
But do it as the Spirit moves them.

No Pater-Noster nor no Creed
In their Petitions never mention,
And hold there's nothing good indeed
But what is done by their pretention,
Prayers that are old in vain they hold,
And can with God no favour merit,
Therefore they will nothing say,
But as they are moved by the Spirit.

The wisest Schools they count but Fools,
Which do no more than they have taught them
For Brownists they can preach and pray
With Wits their Fathers never bought them;
Then I perceive that wit they have
They gather it by Inspiration,
No Books they need to learn to read,
If all be true of their relation.

Only the Horn-book I would have
Them practice at their beginning,
That you the better may perceive
The Fruits that comes by fleshly sinning.
Neverthelesse I would express
All other Books that now are used,
Least that the Ghost that leads you most
By too much Art to be abused.

Their Hair close to their Heads they crop
And yet not only for the fashion,
But that the Eare it should not stop
From hearing of some rare Relation:
Therefore his Eares he will prepare
To hearken to an Holy Brother,
That in regard he may be heard
From one side of the Barne to th' other.

They count their Fathers were but Fools,
Which formerly became such Debters,
To spend their Means upon the Schools,
To teach their Sons a few fond Letters,
The Christ Crosse-row's enough to know,
For 'tis the Horn that must exalt 'em,
Their Gen'ral Vows his Antler'd Brows
Shall gore the Proudest dare assault 'em.

At the last when they must part,
Male and Female go together
Joynd in hand, and joyn'd in heart,
And joyn'd a little for their pleasure.
First for a Kisse they will agree,
And what comes next you may conjecture,
So that the Wicked do not see,
And so break up the Roundheads Lecture.