%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Subiects Thankfulnesse: / OR, / God-a-mercie good Scot, University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/23/2021 37110

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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

S103241 2 Blew Cap for mee Blue Cap Blue Cap for Me To the same Tune Blue Cap To the Same Tune LOng time hath sweet England injoy'd her peace, / under the good government of prudent Kings, BUt is there no hope now at such a dead lift, (longer / what, must they he packing that fain would stay God-a-mercy good Scot. [with variation] God-a-mercy good Scot. [with variation] Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 54 The Subiects Thankfulnesse: / OR, / God-a-mercie good Scot, The Subject's Thankfulness: OR, God a mercy good Scot, ?-?

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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 Featured 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 6/23/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/23/2021 12:59:35 PM XBallad Chen, Chelsea Created XML Version of Ballad 6/23/2021 12:59:35 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/23/2021 12:59:35 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Stark, Nicole Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/23/2021 12:59:35 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/23/2021 12:59:35 PM Transcriptionist One Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/22/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Subjects Thankfulnesse:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">OR,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">God-a-mercie good Scot,</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the tune of, <hi rend="bold">Blew Cap for mee.</hi></hi></seg>
LOng time hath sweet England injoy'd her peace, under the good government of prudent Kings, Since Royall Elizabeth that Queen did cease, those jarres in this nation her fame ever rings, And in the next after that doe her succeed, as James of the Scots, a good King indeed, Our gracious King Charles he also begot, whom God still preserve here & blesse that good Scot. Who causeth Porjectors to hang down the head, they now from their projects begin to shrink back, Promooters, Informers, with grief are half dead, because they'r afraid their old trading to lack; I think they'l beyond sea to frolick and play, after Giles mum Parson who led them the way, If Empson and Dudley have left them by lot a twist thread is spun, God-a-mercy good Scot. How hie were they flown on the wings of their hope whilst they by their projects increase their bags, Their Pattens for pins, for Tobacco and sope, for glasses, for leather, for pipes and for rags;
False Dice and false Cards too, besides a great fine, they yearely receiv'd by inhanching of wine The tide now is turning, let's drinke tother pot and merrily sing God-amercy good Scot. To play at bopeepe now our papists doe strive since they were commanded away to begonne, Who late with the devill a bargaine did drive but now to themselves he hath left them alone The peace of this kingdome they sought for to marr to change our sought plentie to famine and warr: But now it is thought tha'le pay the whole shott when the reckning is drawne, God-a mercy etc. Where are these proud Papests that stradle so wide let them to Rome like Pilgrims range For such as doth thinke the whole moone to bestride cannot proceed long ere they meet with a change; They have tread on our Nobles to trample them down to set up their miters above the Kings Crowne, That e're him was Clarke the Priest hath forgot, but pride wil come down, God-a-mercy good Scot.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second part. To the same Tune.</hi></seg>
BUt is there no hope now at such a dead lift, what must they he packing that fain would stay longer To break up the Parliament is there no shift? and fill this our Nation with error more stronger, Nor dare they repose any faith in their Creed, since there Avi-mary doth faile them at need, The House is acquainted with every fine plot, their minds is blown up, God-a-mercy good Scot. With Scriptures divine they do play at fast and loose, to fast a whole fortnight they'l make you beleeve, And turne holy writ to fat Capon and Goose, yet make the unlearned fast every Saint Eve, Their guts is their god, Religion they mock, to pamper their flesh they would famish the flock, To preach and to pray they have almost forgot, which now they'l be taught, God-a-mercy good Scot. Although this faire Iland abound with such crimes, it all by the Parliament yet shall be purg'd, So that all good subjects shall see better times, although that Projectors doe feare to be scourg'd; Then let us not faint like men without hope, a halter for Traytors, a fig for the Pope, Let Spaine and the Strumpet of Babylon plot, yet we shall be safe, God-a-mery good Scot.
Have you no more Books by whole cartloads to burne, sent o're from beyond sea unbound up in haste, You see that our Nation's not like for to turne, your English Composers have studied in waste, The Hang-man with burning the last was so heat, it's doubtfull that he a great surfeit did get, For since he is dead, yet the sonne he begot, can work on his trade well, and tye the right knot. The Miser shall never liberall give to the poore, and one man all trading no more shall ingrosse, The City shall cozen the Country no more, to build up their fortunes on other mens losse, Oppression shall down while Justice doth smile, fierce Riot and Popery shall banish this Ile, Religion shall flourish without any spot, if this come to passe, God-a-mercy good Scot.
FINIS. Printed in the yeare, 1640.