Love lies a-bleeding.  
By whose mortal wounds you may soon understand,  
What sorrows we suffer since Love left the Land.  
To the Tune of, The Cyclops.  
 
 

LAy by your pleading  
Love lies a-bléeding,  
Burn all your Poetry, and throw away your reading,  
Piety is painted  
and Truth is tainted  
Love is a Reprobate, and schism now is Sainted  
the Throne Love doth sit on,  
We daily do spit on,  
It was not thus, I was, when Betty ruled in Britain.  
but friendship hath faltered  
Loves Altars are altered  
And he that is the cause, I would his neck were haltered   

When Love did nourish,  
England did flourish,  
Till holy hate came in, and maids us all so currith,  
now every Widgeon  
talks of Religion,  
But doth as little good as Mahomet and's Pigeon  
each Coxcomb is suiting,  
his words for confuting.  
but heaven's sooner gained by suffering than by disputing  
true friendship we smother,  
and strike at our Brother,  
Apostles never went to God by killing one another.   

Let Love but warm ye,  
Nothing can harm ye,  
When love is General, there's Angels in the Army  
Love keeps his Quarters,  
and fears no tortures  
The bravest fights are written in the book of Martyrs  
could we be so civil,  
to do good for evil,  
It were the only happy way to overcome the Devil,  
the flowers Love hath watered.  
Sedition hath scattered  
We talk with tongues of holiness, but act with hearts of hatred  
He that doth know me,  
and Love will show me,  
Hath found the nearest, noblost way to overcome me.  
he that hath bound me,  
and then doth wound me,  
Wins not my heart, he doth not conquer but confound me,  
in such a condition  
Love is a Physician,  
True Love and Reason makes the purest politician.  
but strife and confusion  
deceit and delusion  
Though it seems to thrive at first will make a sad conclusion.   

The second part,  
To the same Tune  
 
 

LOve is a jewel,  
A precious jewel,  
'Tis Love must stinch the blood, when fury fights the duel,  
Love is a blood stone  
hate is a toadstone,  
Heaven is the North-point, and Love is the loadstone  
though fury and scorn  
Loves Temples have ●orn.  
Hée'l keep his Covenant, and will not be for sworn.  
his Laws do not border,  
on strife and disorder,  
He scorns to get his wealth by perjury or Marder.   

What falsehood drew in,  
Grace never grew in  
Love will not raise himself upon another's ruin,  
He can present ye  
with peace and plenty  
love never advanceth one by throwing down of twenty,  
where Love is in season  
there Truth is, and reason  
The soul of Love is never underlayed with treason,  
he never doth quarrel  
for Princely apparel  
Nor ever fixed a Chair of State upon a barrel.   

Love from the dull pit  
Or follies full pit  
Ne'er took an anvil out and put it in a Pulpit,  
Love is no sinker,  
Truth is no slinker,  
In mending breaches, Love did never play the Tinkar  
where vengeance and lust is  
no truth is, nor trust is  
As will appear at last in God's high court of justice  
Pity and remorse is  
the strength of love's forces  
Paul never converted men by stables filled with horses.   

Mercy is fading,  
Truth is degrading,  
Love is the only cause of Plenty, Peace, & Trading  
Love is a fire  
made of desire  
Whose chief ambition is to heaven to asp  
it stops the gradation  
of fury and passion  
It governs all good families, & best can guide a Nati●●  
the low land, the high land,  
& my land and thy land  
Grew all in common strait, when love had left this island.   

Where Peace is painting  
And rage is ranting,  
'Tis an undoubted sign the King of Love is wanting,  
Father and Mother,  
Sister and Brother  
If love be lacking, quickly mischief one another,  
where wrath is, the rod is  
that ruins out bodies  
With hate the Devil is, but where love is God is,  
then let us not doubt it,  
but straight go about it  
To bring in love again, we cannot live without it.   

Then let the grace's  
Crown our embraces  
And let us settle all things in their proper places,  
left Persecution  
cause dissolution.  
Let all purjoined wealth be made a restitution  
For though now it tickles,  
'twill turn all to prickles,  
Then let us live in peace & turn our swords to sickles,  
When Noah's Dove was sent out,  
Than God's pardon went out,  
They that would have it so, I hope will say Amen to't.   
Finis.    

London, Printed for F. G. on Snow-hill. Entered according to Order.