Thus Hath The Candle Sing'd The Moth.

Abate The Edge Of Traitors, Gracious Lord, That Would Reduce These Bloody Days Again And Make Poor England Weep In Streams Of Blood! Let Them Not Live To Taste This Land's Increase That Would With Treason Wound This Fair Land's Peace! Now Civil Wounds Are Stopped, Peace Lives Again: That She May Long Live Here, God Say Amen!

You Speak Like A Green Girl / Unsifted In Such Perilous Circumstances.

It Is Not, Nor It Cannot, Come To Good, But Break, My Heart, For I Must Hold My Tongue.

For In My Youth I Never Did Apply Hot And Rebellious Liquors In My Blood.

Leave Us To Our Free Election.