A new Ballad, called a Review of the Rebellion, in three parts.  
To the tune of, when the King enjoys his Rights again.  


Britaines' awake from your six years' dream,  
And listen to this dear-bought theme;  
Which shows how you fast a sleep were lullde,  
And by what magic's spells so gullde.  
Then give attentive ear,  
To what I make appear,  
In that which I shall here for your sakes relate  
For now you have in print  
(And you may believe me in't)  
The history of your present State.   

When Charles first called this Parliament,  
He did it with a full intent,  
Our grievances for to remove,  
And to settle us in Peace, and Love:  
What e'er we did desire,  
Or justly could require,  
He granted: 'twas but ask and Have:  
And yet (woe, and alas)  
It's now so brought to pass,  
That the free-born is become a Slave.   

For of late the treacherous Scots, and we,  
On a national Covenant did agree,  
And bound ourselves by solemn Oath,  
Ne'er after to keep faith, and troth,  
And well may we swear,  
They're our Brethren dear,  
For thehave cost us many a thousand pound:  
And for all that we have got,  
But this advantage from the Scot,  
We are turned Rebellious, and Round.   

All Players, and playhouses are o'er thrown,  
That now the Two Houses may Act alone,  
Of which each Member with so much art,  
Plays the King, the Lord, Knave, or fool's part,  
The Pope, or Parasite,  
The Turk, or Jesuite,  
That could one but get in by Stealth,  
There he might plotted see,  
And act the tragedy,  
Of this poor Church and commonwealth.   

In all the ecclesiastic story,  
Who e'er saw such a directory,  
As ours? which leaves us wholly in the lurch,  
Whilst they seem to constitute a Church,  
The Lord's Prayer, and the creed,  
And (that which all should read)  
The ten commandments are out quite:  
It seem our Synod would,  
Not that our people should,  
Pray, practice, or believe aright.   

Religion once so purely taught,  
And Protestant, now's set at nought,  
Most of our old Clergy Martyrs be,  
For loving God and their loyalty:  
And new enlightened Sects,  
Have now found out such Texts,  
As none of the Fathers e'er could clear,  
Yet these the Brethren round,  
By the Spirit so expound,  
That it would do one's heart good to hear.   

Those that were once Birds of the night,  
Now in the sunshine take their flight,  
And such as scarce durst show their face,  
Are now the only Babes of Grace:  
Lay-levites are allowed,  
To vent in every crowed,  
Such stuff as the pure Assembly mould,  
And so it be but new,  
Yet the Round-head cries 'tis true,  
Because it contradicts the old,   

God's due, the Churches rights, and lands,  
Are engrossed by sacrilegious hands,  
The City-Atheist will never rest,  
Till th'altar-coal have fired their Nest:  
They will have store of gold,  
Though for it must be sold,  
Their God, their King, their Church, & Nation,  
All these they never prize,  
Because they count them lies,  
As they do their Saviour and salvation.   

The once renowned Common-Law,  
Is made by Votes not worth a straw,  
And Ordinances in its room,  
Give loyal hearts their deadly doom:  
A sad thing for to think,  
We're at destructions brink,  
Because ruled by Legislative power,  
And therefore now, if ever,  
This kingdom may assever,  
That this of darkness is the hour.   

Our Liberty which cost so dear,  
In less than yet full seven year,  
Is lost, for which such Worthies died,  
And Tyrants now, at will, us ride,  
Our persons, and our purse,  
Are now under such a curse,  
As never yet this Land befell:  
Of which I am afraid▪  
Ere long it will be said,  
That it cannot be much worse in Hell.    

The second part,  
To the same Tune.  

THe property of our Estates,  
Is spoiled by arbitrary rates,  
And no man holds life, goods, or lands,  
Free from the lust of their commands:  
The State (if't stand in need)  
Will force us for to bleed,  
So long as any one drop is left,  
All must go for the cause,  
Though quite against the laws  
Of God, and Man, we are berest.   

Then what have you gained by all these wars,  
But shame, and beggary, and scars?  
In all your zeal (O peevish elves)  
Whom have you conquered but yourselves?  
You itch against the King,  
The Bishop, and the Ring,  
(For which now stands so engaged the Nation)  
Hath brought you to this pass,  
That you are ridden like an ass,  
Behold your blessed Reformation!   

They've taken away th' ecclesiastic Courts,  
And given th' Apprentices days for sports,  
Some of which that adventured out for the cause,  
They make fréemen, & their Master's jackdaws,  
Whom they vote as the train●d Band,  
Every day by them to stand,  
That the Houses may securely sit,  
Whilst that they do reward,  
The wittols that them guard,  
With the blessing of Issachar, to teach them wit.   

Thus while you thought all to engross,  
You must sit down by weeping cross,  
For your laws, Religion, liberty,  
Reputation, Peace, and property:  
Which you might still have had,  
But that you fell stark mad,  
And the father now to his son may tell,  
How th' Parliament, and the Scot,  
Shared between them all we'd got,  
And so the glory did depart from our Jsarel.   

What Christian heart next doth not ache,  
To see the poor Irish laid at th' Stake?  
For their lives and lands, the Ordinance saith  
May be bought for sums on the public faith.  
And some men are so wise,  
To think them lawful prize,  
Because they're voted rebels by our State,  
But were it not a sin?  
Yet they divide the skin,  
Of the bear, among them ere they have't.   

Our People (who were once so mad,  
To be all of the Tribe of Gad,  
Whose idolatry nothing could content,  
But this everlasting Parliament;  
And a posture of war,)  
Shall find they're gone so far,  
That now they cannot well come off,  
And when they have wasted all,  
On the crown, and Churches fall,  
They'll be rewarded with a scoff.   

How many fears, and jealousies,  
And Plots (Abominable lies)  
Have filled our Pulpits, and our brains,  
Only to cheat us into chains?  
Which never will be broke,  
But only by a stroke,  
Given to th' ringleaders of the faction,  
Without it we may strain  
Our wits yet all vain,  
For nought can do us good but Action.   

Commits sit, in most great towns,  
To awe both the Gentry, and the clowns,  
They keep the peace in every shire,  
By ferreting the Cavalier:  
Yea these men are so just,  
In discharging of their trust,  
Imposed upon them by the State:  
That none shall dare to quatch,  
Though for lying at the catch,  
They deserve both of God and Men the hate.   

He whom the wars leaves worth a groat,  
Shall be Delinquent made by Vote,  
Are we not like to be bravely reformed,  
Who are sure to be so throughly wormed?  
Quarterings, Excize, and tax,  
Expect, until the Axe,  
And Halter claim by Law their due:  
Till then 'tis hard to show,  
The ready way to know  
A rebel, from a Subject true.   

The Army which was once so feared,  
Most gallant men have now appeared,  
By standing for Law, and liberty,  
And continuance of the monarchy:  
And as they fought to bring,  
To th' Parliament the King,  
For settling of an happy Peace:  
So still (though some men kick)  
To their principles they stick,  
To purchase his, their own, and our release,    

The third part, of the Previlidges of the two Houses of Parliament.  

TO hate all good, and hug all evil,  
In an angel's shape to outact the devil,  
With all kinds of baseness to comply,  
And make the whole realm a Monopoly:  
To laugh at conscience,  
And be quite void of sense,  
Now Church and State they've in pieces rent,  
To break all kind of trust,  
And to do nothing that is just,  
Are some privileges of this Parliament.   

And to abuse the King by Protestation,  
Remonstrances, and Declarations.  
To levy arms against him, and pull down,  
All the fairest Flowers of his crown,  
To seize on his Ships, and Ports,  
His Revenue, and his Forts,  
And to revile his Queen, and progeny:  
To counterfeit his seal,  
And his Letters to reveall,  
And to keep him Prisoner at Holdenby.   

And to continuance tumults, publish fictions,  
Vote, and Order contradictions,  
To set up an idol, named the Cause,  
And make all bow to't in spite of th' laws:  
The conscience to enforce,  
And go on without remorse,  
And (that which yet is worse) to apostatise  
From God, and all that's good,  
And to shed innocent blood,  
And to stoup their ears against our cries.   

And (as the Members decay) to pack new elections,  
And to give to whom they list Protections,  
To root out Episopacy, and to ordain  
A Fast, to palliate the same:  
And an humiliation,  
To busy the Nation,  
Whilst they the Bishops-Lands do sell▪  
Which so men will but buy,  
They'll give security,  
Unto them that there is no Hell.   

And the Learned Clergy to disgrace,  
The conscientious to displace,  
And in their rooms for to advance,  
Schism, Sedition, and Ignorance,  
Informers to reward,  
Without any regard,  
To th' persons whom they falsely peach,  
And to promise them good pay,  
So that enough they'll say,  
To bring th' ill-affected within their reach.   

And to question the Persons in the trinity,  
And to make the sense of the House, divinity,  
To root our Reverence, and declare,  
That Barnes as good as Churches are:  
The truth to persecute,  
And to make good Ministers mute,  
And to keep half our Churches without preaching,  
And (to a void controls,  
Though it starves the people's souls)  
To suffer none but Round-head Teaching.   

And the two universities to infect,  
And Sacramentalis to neglect,  
All works of Piety to pull down,  
With the Monuments of great renown:  
And hospitals to rob,  
And makes us all sigh and sob,  
And worse, if worse they could invent:  
And to vote all sense, and reason,  
That's against them to be Treason,  
Are privileges of this Parliament.   

And so are— but I conclude my Song,  
For Truth (though short) e'er seems too long,  
If now you would know what remedy,  
There may for all these mischiefs be?  
Then must King Charles alone,  
Be set upon his Throne,  
For which let's join in one, with might, and main,  
For the times will never mend,  
Till the Parliament do end,  
And the King enjoys his right again.    
FINIS.