And straight to execution
Poor pussy she was drawn,
And high hang'd up upon a tree -
The preacher sung a psalm.

And when the work was ended,
They thought the cat near dead,
She gave a paw, and then a mew,
And stretched out her head.

Thy name, said he, shall certainly
A beacon still remain,
A terror unto evil ones
For evermore, Amen.



Ballad: The Royal Feast



A Loyall Song of the Royall Feast kept by the Prisoners in the
Towre, August last, with the Names, Titles, and Characters of every
Prisoner. By Sir F. W., Knight and Baronet, Prisoner. (Sept.
16th, 1647.)

"In the negotiations between the King and the Parliament during the
summer and autumn of this year," says Mr Thomas Wright in his
Political Ballads of the Commonwealth, published for the Percy