¶ Come bring in may with me,  
My may is fresh and green:  
(A subjects heart, an humble mind)  
To serve a maiden Queen.  
A discourse of Rebellion, drawn forth for to warn the wanton wits how to keep their heads on their shoulders.  
¶ IMPRINTED AT LONDON, in Fletestreat by William Griffith. Anno Domini. 1570. The first of may.   

¶ A discourse of Rebellion, drawn forth for to warn the wanton wits how to keep their heads on their shoulders.  

A civil war, doth God and man abhor,  
Hit stains the air, and blots the earth with blood  
Hit is a plague, a pestilence botch and sore,  
that eats up Realms, as worm consumes the wood.  
Hit venom casts, as far as Nilus' flood,  
Hit poisoneth all, it toucheth any where,  
Hit is of kind, much worse than horses hear.  
That lies in dung, where on vile Serpent's breed  
Rebellion first, sprang out of viper's seed,  
And nourished was, in naughty cankered mind,  
a loathsome lodge, for devilish geasts we find.   

¶ You subjects all, beware that snakish beast,  
Which swells like toode, & borsts in sunder straight,  
Beware ye come, not near that Adder's nest,  
That heads & hearts and bowels stings by sleight.  
Great fame you win, in countries cause to fight  
Great shame you get, with Rebels for to hold,  
Great plagues thereof in Books you see enrolled.  
Great wrack & ruin, domestic brawls do bring,  
They want no scourge, that strives against a king  
For right shall reign, and rule as reason ●hoes,  
And sway the sword, in spite of secret foes.   

¶ Each other grief, is healed with plasters fine,  
This finds no salve, so deep the corzye goes,  
With stained hands, and bloody staring eyen  
This Monster great, in fury puffs and blows:  
The source & sea, from whence all mischief flows.  
And yet the Lord, that sits above the stars,  
Brings them to nought, that seeketh Civil wars  
The best reward, that ever Rebels found.  
Was Tyburn thread, and hempen halters round,  
Or else a chop, of churlish butchers are,  
That with one blow, ends all their best knacks.   

¶ Ambishious men, that still desires to climb,  
seditiously, do seek to pole and shave,  
And naked birds, when beggary is in prime,  
Do snatch for shroud, on fowls that feathers have.  
Rebellion thus, with painted visage brave,  
Leads out poor souls (that knows not gold from glass)  
Who bears the pack, and burden like the Ass.  
And well away, a rueful tale to tell,  
Their fall & ruin, scarce warns their neibors well  
Sedition is, a sickness and a byell,  
Whose breaking out, brings people in exile.   

¶ Desire of change, in things we present feel,  
Breeds flitting thoughts, of follies new to come,  
And rolling minds, that turns like spinning whels  
Hath great desire, to here the Foreign drum.  
And whiles the Bee, in brainsick head doth homme  
On mad devise, the idle man is let,  
Then all is fish, that fal●s in fyshers' net.  
That knack seems good, that knavery much made of  
That right made wrong, that earnest made a skoff  
That tyrell true, that sta●e stark staring naught,  
And each man's case in cruel question brought.   

¶ Unbrideled will, to spoil and havoc rons,  
And headlong hales, the hasty wits awry:  
And subjects so, the true obedience shones,  
And falls in flame, as doth the feeble Fly,  
But when in field, a while these wodcockes' lie,  
The Prince's power, their conscience pricks so fast  
That courage fails, and home they run at last.  
Then suit with tears, for Pardons do they make,  
And so like beasts, men's hearts do fear and quake  
God strikes that stroke, & plukes stout stomaches down  
And with stiff arm, stays up a rightful Crown.   

¶ Infect the breast, with breach of promise dew,  
The mind makes place, to lodge each branch of vice  
Forsake old troth, and fall to fancies new,  
Familiar faith throw fondness wareth nice.  
Who takes delight, to cog and foist the Dice,  
And nosled is, in cutthroat shifts a while,  
Leaves all true play, and pastime in exile.  
When practise proud, takes place in people mild,  
The Civil swain grows savege rude and wild.  
And when mad horse, in teeth doth bridle take,  
He plungeth often, the rider's back to shake.   

¶ Break faith and love, & draw a stranger's yoke  
Man's folly spreads, abroad like sparks of fire:  
And doth great harm, yet makes but little smoke,  
Till all our pomp, be tumbled in the mire.  
O Britain blood, mark this at my desire,  
If that you stick, together as you aught,  
This little isle, may set the world at naught.  
If no then look, for plague at Prince's hand,  
Who here is placed, in peace to guide the land.  
Your wicked wills, shall come to no effect,  
For God shall save, his choson and elect.   

¶ Though Nuts do fall, that in the cluster grew,  
And goodly trees, would clean forsake the bark:  
Yet may we not, bid kernels all adieu,  
Fresh buds will bloom, whiles stock hit self is stark  
Alas, wild heads, you know not well your mark.  
You shoot amiss, when Booe is drawn to ear,  
And brush the cloth, full sore against the hear.  
The yarn in frame, will never cotton well,  
While foul abuse, in weavers web doth devil.  
Troth tries out all, & shall throw time be known,  
when Rebels' craft, shall clean be overthrown.   

¶ In deed 'tis good, to draw one yoke and line,  
The house long stands, that won good ground doth bear,  
But for to drink, the dregs in stead of wine:  
Is madness sure, and goeth against the hear.  
Sweet apples pass, the parings of the Pear,  
One perfect dish, well seasoned as hit aught,  
Is better sure, than dainties dearly bought,  
Knit fast the knot, or else untwined thread  
In garments good, shall fail the seam at need.  
Shake settled tiles, from house and you shall see,  
That rafters great, and house can not agree.   

¶ Example make, but of the faggot now,  
Whose sticks fast bound, together long abides:  
Pluck on stick forth, and all the faggot throw,  
In sunder shakes, and from the band hit slides,  
Where banks do break, there runneth out the tides  
Where Commons knit, in countries cause & right  
There Kings found friends, & foes are put to flight.  
Where subjects snarre, & several ways do draw  
There god pours plagues, throw justice of his law.  
Then rage bursts out, and brings in wrack & rune,  
And so sweet strings, are wrested out of tune.   

¶ Did Rome not rule, the world at will long time,  
Till hateful hearts, did strive for painted shoes:  
And haughty heads, sought further for to climb,  
Upon the spleen, than subjects compos goes,  
●n whose attempts, a sore descension roes.  
For when throw wealth, & pride in ●arre they fell.  
Rome was not Rome, that state become an Hell,  
And Devils swarmed, in seat where senates sat,  
And turned laws, to strife and lewd debate:  
Wrong stepped in place, and right was banish quite  
And muffled world, in mischief took delight.   

¶ The head thus sick, the members fell away,  
And every one, the other still deceives:  
The tree left bore, the sap must needs decay,  
The bark once gone, there was no hope of leaves,  
The straw infect, the cor●●e forsook the sheaves.  
The hive of Bees, burst out of honey come,  
The Common wealth, was banished out of Rome.  
So long as laws, the true love knot did knit,  
In triumphtes great did worthy romans sit.  
So long as love, in chains did link the land,  
In passing pomp, the Roman state did stand.   

¶ This Realm of ours, had never yet the foil,  
Till sausye sleights, had severed sheep from fold,  
And malice hot, in rusty breasts 'gan boil,  
And lucre's lust, for gain his country sold?  
Till revel came, and stately stountnes bold,  
And set abroach, discord in every sheer,  
The world we ruled, and lived like Princes here.  
O English hearts, let this suffice I say,  
To make you hate, Rebellion every way.  
For if you do, in fury file your nest,  
You are much worse, then senseless bird or beast.   
Finis.  
Quoth Churchyard.