KING JAMES' LETTER TO THE FRENCH KING AN EXCELLENT NEW SONG Tune of, Let Mary live long. KInd Lewis, my Friend, Since Things goes no better, Here is a kind Letter, Which to you I send, to lay down your Arms: For my conquering Son, Will quite overrun your Kingdoms, I fear, He'll bring a vast Army, He'll bring a vast Army, to conquer you here. Since Fortune doth frown, And sends none but Crosses, How great are your Losses; My Kingdoms and Crown you'll never regain, Too late here I know: For a powerful Foe will shortly arrive: Stout Boys of broad Britain, Stout Boys of broad Britain, fears no Man alive. Still ever for Peace, Lest sad Desolation Should fall in your Nation, Your Foes they increase at Home and Abroad: For Diffusion of Blood, Makes my Eyes like a Flood, through Rivers of Tears, The Cries of the People, The Cries of the People, sore pierceth mine Ears. Our Coll'nels are killed, And valiant Commanders; By fight in Flanders, All Nations are filled with the Rumours of Wars; Which troubles me sore, Let us freely give o'er, since Fightings in vain: I long to see Europe, I long to see Europe to flourish again. I cannot but own, And still I will ever, You've done your endeavour To ransom my Throne, by powerful Arms; You've done what you can For an unfortunat Man, I ever have been: Those that fight against me, Those that fight against me, doth Victory win. Since the Fates are decreed, That my Son and Daughter, Will ever hereafter Still flourish indeed, which will satisfy me: One Branch They will give, By the which I may live, I'll freely comply, That I am not for Fight, That I am not for Fight, no, no, no, not I Now here lies the Case, The most I desire, Is hence to retire To some Holy Place, to spend my last Days: So Lewis, my Friend, Let the Wars have an end, and lay your Arms down: I'm wearied of seeking, I'm wearied of seeking, the Sceptre and Crown. FINIS.