Classic Poem

To the hall, to the hall,
For justice we call,
On the king and his pow'rful adherents and friends,
Who still have endeavour'd, but we work their ends.
'Tis we will pull down whate'er is above us,
And make them to fear us, that never did love us,
We'll level the proud, and make very degree,
To our royalty bow the knee,
'Tis no less than treason,
'Gainst freedom and reason
for our brethren to be higher than we.


First the thing, call'd a king,
To judgment we bring,
And the spawn of the court, that were prouder than he,
And next the two Houses united shall be:
It does to the Roman religion inveigle,
For the state to be two-headed like the spread-eagle;
We'll purge the superfluous members away,
They are too many kings to sway,
And as we all teach,
'Tis our liberty's breach,
For the free-born saints to obey.


Not a claw, in the law,
Shall keep us in awe;
We'll have no cushion-cuffers to tell us of Hell,
For we are all gifted to do it as well:
'Tis freedom that we do hold forth to the nation
To enjoy our fellow-creatures as at the creation;
The carnal men's wives are for men of the spirit,
Their wealth is our own by merit,
For we that have right,
By the law called might,
Are the saints that must judge and inherit.