A ballad entitled/ A cold Pie for the Papists▪  
Wherein is contained: The Trust of true ●●●biectes for suppressing of Seditious Papistry and Rebellion: to the maintenance of t●● Gospel, and the public Peace of England. Made to be song to La●●iamiza Note.  

WHat Christian that the Lord doth fear,  
Can sobs & blubbering tears forbear,  
the time to way uprightly?  
To see how subjects Ebb and Flow,  
Whereby great discord haps to grow,  
a thing God knows unsightly:  
Whereby our Queen and Realm we see,  
By such (alas) disquiet be,  
But God cut short the rage of those,  
As seek to be their countries Foes,  
Beaten down their brags their boast deface,  
Unto our Queen Lord grant thy grace,  
That she the sword from sheath may draw  
To vanquish such as hate thy law,  
Then shall we be: from danger free,  
Grant heavenly God, thus it may be.   

The careless Crew the shameless Rout▪  
Of Papists proud whose hearts most stout,  
thy Gospel are disdaining:  
Who secretly in corners lurk,  
Much mischief here and there to work,  
within our land remaining:  
Deface dear God for Christ's sake,  
Then shall their Traitorous Treason ●●ake,  
Prevent their hope wherein they stay,  
And disanuil their Golden day,  
Whereof they brag: and make great boast,  
Of Christ and his to scour the Coast▪  
They trust to tread thy Gospel down,  
Against our Queen they fret and frown,  
Thus thine and thee, contemned be,  
From all such Rebels, England free.   

And fortify our Queen with grace,  
That she with sword from hence may chase,  
all those that have assented:  
Against thy word and truth to jar,  
Who seek to raise up Civil war,  
as people discontented,  
With thy dear gifts so manifold  
Which they and we do well behold,  
Still given by thy good providence,  
Yet some withstand thy reverence,  
Thy worship Lord they do disdain,  
They seek (as Truth) Lies to maintain,  
God grant our Queen may look about,  
From hence to weed, such Papists stout,  
Then shall we be, from danger free,  
Grant heavenly God so it may be.   

The discord in the North we know,  
Which through the Poape did spring and grow,  
was warily prevented:  
And some that his Advancement sought,  
A Hempen Hatchet justly caught,  
Because they so assented:  
To take the Field against all right  
Against the Truth and Queen to fight:  
But if thy word and Gospel dear,  
Had been so taught and preached there  
As it hath been in London long,  
They would have shunned such Treason strong,  
And duly done Obedience:  
Unto our Queen: with reverence:  
Whose mercy may: procure alway▪  
Her Subjects Hearts in Truth to stay.   

¶ Yet many se●ke for to despise,  
The Fowntayne, whence such Grace doth rise,  
Our Queen and sovereign reigning:  
And up and down they use to go,  
Like Rebels, Discord for to sow  
with Lies of their own feigning:  
What? doth the Princess Curteousie,  
Of you deserve such Injury?  
That such Reward ye tender now,  
To her, which so doth tender you?  
Shall her true love reap such Disdain?  
Or think ye now as Lords to reign?  
Our Queen bears not a Sword for naught  
Your Duties now ye will be taught:  
I trust her Grace, within short space:  
All perverse Papists will hence chase.   

¶ And where as mercy hath been cause,  
That ye transgress her highness Laws:  
I trust ye shall know truly:  
That justice Sword shall cut you short,  
Which to work mischief think it sport,  
As Rebels most unruly:  
Beware therefore, ye Papists proud,  
Which seek in Dens yourselves to shroud,  
To work your wiles as void of fear,  
In casting Bills now here, now there,  
Which seems our Queen and Crown to touch  
And ye yourselves cannot advouche,  
The hangman give you not such checks,  
That Tyburn chance to break your necks,  
Trust me ye may, if ye do play,  
The Rebels thus, you must that way.   

¶ For when such Wicked plants are gone,  
England shall have no cause to moon,  
Nor future Foes be doubting:  
God grant the Sword may shun the sheath,  
And by the Roots such Weeds bereave,  
For many here are scouting:  
Who seek as much as ere they may,  
This little Britain to betray:  
And all because we Christ profess,  
As present time doth prove no less:  
But God confownde poor England's Foes  
And safely keep our Ryall Rose:  
From such as would her highness harm,  
With NESTOR'S years her Person arm:  
Grant her thy Grace, in every place,  
The Force of Rebels to deface.   
FINIS.  john Philip.  

¶ Imprinted at London, by William How, for Richard johnes and are to be sold, at his shop joining to the south-west door of Paul's Church.