%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> CROMWELLS PANEGYRICK. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1647-1647 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/08/2012 32537

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R210656 SHall Presbyterian bells ring Cromwels praise, / While we stand still and do no Trophyes raise Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 301195 CROMWELLS PANEGYRICK. CROMWELLS PANEGYRICK. CROMWELL'S PANEGYRIC. 1647-1647

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 5/8/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America country/ nation military/ war politics/ government religious groups Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/8/2012 4:54:10 PM XBallad Davis, Mary Jane Created XML Version of Ballad 5/8/2012 4:54:10 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/8/2012 4:54:10 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/8/2012 4:54:10 PM Transcriptionist Two Bell, Erik Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/8/2012 4:54:10 PM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/2/2011 Checker Percy Ross Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 5/17/2011 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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SHall Presbyterian bells ring Cromwels praise, While we stand still and do no Trophyes raise Unto his lasting name? Then may we be Hung like the bells in our dependencie. Well may his Nose, that is dominicall, Take pepper int, to see no Pen at all Stir to applaud his merits, who hath lent Such valour, to erect a monument Of lasting praise; whose name shall never dye, While England has a Church, or Monarchy. He whom the laurelld Army home did bring Riding Tryumphant ore his conquerd King, He is the Generals Cypher now; and when Hees joynd to him, he makes that one a Ten. The Kingdomes Saint; England no more shall stir To cry St. George, but now St. Oliver. Hes the Realmes Ensigne; and who goes to wring His Nose, is forcd to cry, God save the King. He that can rout an Army with his name, And take a City, ere he views the same: His Souldiers may want bread, but nere shall fear (While hes their General,) the want of Beer; No Wonder they wore Bayes, his Brewing-fat (Helicon-like) make Poets Laureat: When Braines in those Castalian liquors swim, We sing no Heathenish Pean, but a Hymne; And that by th Spirit too, for who can chuse But sing Hosanna to this King of Jewes? Tremble you Scotish zealots, you that hant Freed any Conscience from your Covenant: That for those bald Appellatives of Cause, Religion, and the Fundamentall Lawes, Have puld the old Episcopacy down, And as the Miter, so youle serve the Crowne. You that have made the Cap to th Bonnet vaile, And made the Head a servant to the Taile. And you curst spawne of Publicans, that sit In every County, as a plague to it; That with your yeomen Sequestrating Knaves, Have made whole Counties beggerly, and slaves. You Synod, that have sate so long to know Whether we must beleeve in God, or no; You that have torn the Church, and sate t impaire The Ten Commandements, the Creed, the Prayer; And made your honours pull down heavens glory, While you set up that Calfe, your Directory: We shall no wicked Jewes-eard Elders want, This Armys built of Churches Militant: These are new Tribes of Levi; for they be Clergy, yet of no Universitie. Pull down your Crests; for every bird shall gather, From your usurping back, a stollen feather. Your Great Lay Levite Prynne, whose Margent tires The patient Reader, while he blots whole quires,
Nay reames with Treason; and with Nonsence too, To justifie what ere you say or do: Whose circumcised eares are hardly grown Ripe for another Persecution: He must to Scotland for another paire; For he will lose these, if he tarry here. Burges that Reverend Presbydeane of Pauls, Must (with his Poundage) leave his Cure of Souls, And into Scotland trot, that he may pick Out of that Kirk, a nick-namd Bishoprick. And Calamy must now resigne his place, Because Scalpellum has cut through the Case; The Protean Hollis, that will never burne, Must here orat Tiburne take another turne. And Will the Conquerour in a Scottish dance Must lead his running Army into France. Or he and Stapleton among those Crews In Holland build a Synagogue of Jewes, And spread Rebellion; Great Alexander Fears not a Pillory, like this Commander. And Bedlam John, that at his Clerks so raves, Using them not like servants, but like slaves. He that so freely raild against his Prince, Cald him dissembling subtile Knave, and since Has stilld the whole Army Bankrupts; said, that none Of their Estates were equal to his own: He that was by a strong ambition led To set himself upon the Cities head: But when he has restord his both-side fees, Heell be as poor, or they as rich as hees. And that still-gaping Tophet Goldsmiths Hall, With all his Furies, shall to ruine fall. Weel be no more gulld by that Popish story, But shall reach heavn without that Purgatory: What honor does he merit, what renown By whom all these oppressions are puld down. And such a Government is like to be In Church and State, as eye did never see: Magicians hold, heel set up Common Prayer; Looking ins face, they find the Rubrick there. His Name shall never dye, by fire nor floud, But in Church-windows stand, where pictures stood: And if his soul lothing that house of clay, Shal[l] to another Kingdome march away, Under some Barnes floore his bones shall lye, Who Churches did, and Monuments defie: Where the rude Thrasher, with much knocking on, Shall wake him at the Resurrection. And on his Grave since there must be no Stone, Shall stand this Epitaph; That he has none.
Printed in the Yeer 1647.