The Parliament are grown to that height
They care not a pin what his Majesty saith;
And they pay all their debts with the public faith.
Oh, God, etc.

Though all we have here is brought to nought,
In Ireland we have whole lordships bought,
There we shall one day be rich, 'tis thought:
Still, God, etc.

We must forsake our father and mother,
And for the State undo our own brother
And never leave murthering one another:
Oh, God, etc.

Now the King is caught and the devil is dead;
Fairfax must be disbanded,
Or else he may chance be Hotham-ed.
Still, God, etc.

They have made King Charles a glorious king,
He was told, long ago, of such a thing;
Now he and his subjects have reason to sing,
Oh, God, etc.



Ballad: The Cities Loyaltie To The King