Page:Arraigning and indicting of Sir John Barleycorn (1).pdf/5

 And many a man did talk,
 * that Barleycorn muſt die

His enemies increaſe ſo faſt,
 * at board and eke at bed,

I fear their malice will not ceaſe
 * till they cut off his head.

For Smut the honeſt blackſmith
 * with many tradeſmen more;

And Snip the nimble taylor,
 * doth vow he'll live no more.

And Will the Weaver doth complain
 * and many thouſands more

I hope their labour is in vain,
 * Therefore they may not roar.

Yet now a while give ear,
 * you that are ſtanders by,

And you preſently ſhall hear
 * Sir John condemn'd to die.

All you that love poor Barleycorn,
 * a good word for him give,

And he that ſpeaks againſt him,
 * I wiſh he may not live.