Know this, my brethren, heaven is clear,
And all the clouds are gone;
The righteous man shall flourish now,
Good days are coming on.
Then come, my brethren, and be glad,
And eke rejoyce with me;
Lawn sleeves and rochets shall go down,
And hey, then, up go we.

We'll break the windows which the whore
Of Babylon hath painted,
And when the popish saints are down
Then Barrow shall be sainted;
There's neither cross nor crucifix
Shall stand for men to see,
Rome's trash and trumpery shall go down,
And hey, then, up go we.

Whate'er the Popish hands have built
Our hammers shall undo;
We'll break their pipes and burn their copes,
And pull down churches too;
We'll exercise within the groves,
And teach beneath a tree;
We'll make a pulpit of a cask,
And hey, then, up go we.

We'll put down Universities,
Where learning is profest,
Because they practise and maintain