Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BALLAD TO THE TUNE - 'AND WILL YOU NOW TO PEACE INCLINE', by PATRICK CAREY


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BALLAD TO THE TUNE - 'AND WILL YOU NOW TO PEACE INCLINE', by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The parliament ('tis said) resolv'd
Last Line: And scour out every member.
Subject(s): Great Britain - Parliament


I

THE parliament ('tis said) resolv'd,
That, sometime ere they were dissolv'd,
They'd pardon each delinquent:
And that (all past scores to forget)
Good store of Lethe they did get,
And round about that drink went.

II

If so, 'tis hard. For th' have forgot
All thought o'th'act, 'tis true, but not
One crime that can be heard on:
So that 'tis likely they'll constrain
Malignants to compound again,
In lieu o' th' nois'd out pardon.

III

This comes of hoping to sit still:
By this we find, 'twas not good will,
But fear, that caus'd their pity.
How sweet, how fair, they spoke of late!
What benefits both Church and State
Should reap from each committee!

IV

The country for its faith was prais'd;
No more the great tax should be rais'd;
Arrears should all be quitted:
Our everlasting parliament
Would now give up its government;
A new mould should be fitted.

V

Th' Act of Oblivion should come out,
And we no longer held in doubt;
Religion should be stated:
Goldsmith's, and Haberdasher's Hall,
No longer should affright us all,
Nor Drury House be hated.

VI

Fear made them promise this, and more,
But now they think the storm is o'er,
Not one word is observed:
The soldier, full of discontent,
To Ireland for's arrears is sent;
The tax is still conserved.

VII

Th' Act of Oblivion's laid aside;
Sects multiply and subdivide,
'Gainst which no order's taken:
And for th' new representative,
Faith (for my part) I'd e'en as live
The thought on't were forsaken.

VIII

Th' except 'gainst this, th' except 'gainst that;
They'll have us choose, but only what
Shall square with their direction:
They do so straightly wedge us in,
That if we choose not them again,
They'll make void our election.

IX

Cromwell! a promise is a debt.
Thou mad'st them say, they would forget,
O make them now remember!
If they their privileges urge;
Once more this House of Office purge,
And scour out every member.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net