❧ A NEW BALLAD ENTITLED, AGAINST Rebellious and false Rumours. To the new tune of the Black Almain, upon Scissillia.  


GEVE GOD THE GLORY NOW AND EVERMORE   
WHat Rumores now are raised of late  
Within this English land:  
Which is not much for to be praised  
The case so hard doth stand,  
For every one doth talk,  
There tongues contrary walk,  
And seems to meddle, of this and that,  
There babbling tongues, so large doth chat,  
As foolish fancy, moves them say,  
So out there foolish talk they bray.  
And every one doth busy him still,  
About the thing he hath no skill.   

¶ Some of his neighbours doth inquire,  
What news abroad there is:  
If that he any thing doth here,  
Of those that did amiss.  
Some longeth to here tell, ¶ ⁋  
Of those that did Rebel,  
And whether they be fled or take,  
Thus still inquiry they do make,  
Some saith to Scotland they be go,  
And other saith it is not so,  
The Rumerous Devil is now abroad,  
Which makes them so to say on load.   

¶ Some saith this year there shallbe hapte,  
Much trouble in the land: ¶ ⁋  
Of Prophecies they carp and clap,  
As they that have them skande.  
Doth tell them so abroad,  
And thus they lay on load:  
And fills the people's ears with lies,  
Thus Rumour still abroad he flies.  
Which makes them now in such a roar,  
As all true hearts may well deplore.  
And pray to God if that he please,  
These foolish Rumores once may cease.   

¶ And let us now apply our time,  
In prayer to the Lord: (¶)  
That he may cease this furious crime,  
That now is blown abroad.  
And every one to stay,  
His tongue and nothing say:  
But of the things he hath in hand,  
And see his business well be scanned?  
And not to meddle of Prince's acts,  
What they will do nor of there facts,  
If occupied, well we thus abide:  
The Lord for us will well provide.   

¶ For surely Plagues we do deserve,  
Most horrable and great:  
Because from God we still do serve.,  
And daily doth him fret.  
And still provoke his jeer,  
Which glous as hot as fire:  
His Bow is now all ready bent,  
Therefore in time let us repent,  
Lest he for sin do us deprive, ¶ ⁋  
For warned folks they say may live?  
And warning take by other men,  
Which we before our eyes have seen.   

We have hard in France the Rumur there  
That hath been many a day:  
There country spoiled in Ruth and fear,  
Unto there clean decay.  
With loss of many a man,  
Since first that stir began:  
And many a Noble hath been slain,  
A Duke, and eke a Prince certain.  
Which wear the chief stays of that land,  
Wherefore in hazard now they stand,  
For where the chief are taken away,  
The rest must needs run to decay.   

¶ In what estate doth Soldiers stand,  
Great ruth it is to here:  
That there is wrought the tyrants hand  
We need not to declare.  
Experiaunce well may show,  
What numbers here doth flow.  
Of flemings fled from tyrants hand,  
Which daily cometh to this land:  
Whose hearts in wrath full long hath boiled  
And eke there Country clean despoiled.  
Which thing may warn us well I say  
Lest that we feel the like decay.   

¶ The Lord hath suffered us full long,  
And spared hath his rod:  
What peace hath been us now among,  
A leaven years praised be God.  
And round about us hath,  
Bene war and cruel faith,  
And all to 'cause us to repent,  
For we deserve worse punishment,  
Then any of these Lands have done,  
I fear we shall be plagued right soon,  
Thy judgement sure our God hath had,  
To plague the good still for the bad.   

¶ Wherefore let us with one accord,  
Fall all to fast and pray:  
And Pardon crave now of the Lord,  
To keep us from decay.  
And leave this murmoring spite,  
Which God doth not delight:  
The Scripture plainly doth declare,  
The israelites they plagued wear:  
Because the murmered at there God,  
Therein we do deserve like rod.  
With hearts devout now let us pray,  
To keep this Realm from all decay.   
Finis.  
qd. Thomas Bet.   

¶ IMPRINTED AT LONDON, in Fletestreat at the sign of the Falcon by William Gryffith, and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dunston's Churchyard. 1570.