Page:Fight at Bothwel-Bridge.pdf/10

 Altho' the man he ne’er so poor

the sine they will not take,

they call us rebels to the King

and treators to the Crown,

Because we'll not menswear ourselvs

for every bishop lown,

but we will not acknowledge them

nor own them as our head,

Nor will imbrace on mortal man

into our matters stead,

we will prove royal to the King;

through city and through town.

If they will place our ministers

and ding the Bishops down

the Bishops they are high in power,

and sets themselves as lords;

But when the wheel of fortune turns

beware of sharp rewards,

the Bishops they betrayed the church

of God within this land;

But yet I hope to see the day;

when he will it recall,

and bring us back from Babylon

in spite of prelates all,

The Prelates they are but bastards weeds,

and wounded at the root;

there's nothing grows on them but leaves

or then some withered fruit,

But when the master gardner comes,

and sees how blait they'r like;

he‘l neither dig nor delve no more,

but cast them o'er the dike.