Old John Hopkin's , and Tho. Sternhold's, Petition to the PARLIAMENT Against New Version of the Psalms.  

TO the Great Council of the Nation,  
The sad and hearty Lamentation  
Of Good King David's Old Translation,  
Most humbly shows, the Toleration  
Of any New Versification,  
Is against Ancient Legislation:  
Since former Senates Approbation  
Was given to their Old Explication,  
They humbly beg the Consolation  
To let 'em keep their former Station,   

WHereas your Orators and Beadmen,  
Full sore against their Wills, are dead Men,  
And should have slept without Offence  
As common is to Men of Sense,  
Had not their Learned Ekes and Ayes  
So famous in Queen Besse's Days,  
Been in such Danger, as to make  
Their Parents yearning Bowels speak.  
Ah! Think ye Masters how can we  
Enjoy our dear beloved Glee,  
When these the Children of our style  
Are dispossessed by Fraud and Guile,  
And yield to Brats of Priest and Player,  
Not half so well brought up as they are?  
Because, Forsooth, our Dress is lowly,  
Must this our Garment be unholy?  
Or can it be esteemed a Fault,  
That Hebrew sauciness is in Hebrew thought?  
As if meek Innocence should wear  
The guilty Tinsil of the Fair;  
Or Men approved the Text Divine,  
Not for its Truth, but 'cause its Words were fine.  
For Heav'ns sake, Sirs, consider on it,  
A Psalm should not be like a Sonnet;  
And He that writes a Birth-Day Song  
With Praise, may do the Psalmist wrong.  
Alas! Poor King! He mourns and weep,  
Nor longer with his Fathers sleeps!  
" How are my Foes increased, he cries,  
" Which vex me more and more?  
" How do they swagger, who device  
" To trouble me full sore?  
" Saul have I born, and eke the Smart  
" Of Sickness, and of Pain:  
" But oh! They pierce my Righteous Heart,  
" Who now my Sense would strain.  
" Full empty are the Words, God knows,  
" Which now they make me speak,  
" I'd sooner bear Goliah's Blows  
" Than what I now do take.  
" Milbourn, and Barton, are but Chits  
" In Mischief to this Pair,  
" Who now on me employ their Wits,  
" 'twould make a Saint to swear.  
" Oh! Let 'em as their Hands have done,  
" And they deserve indeed,  
" And after their Invention  
" Let 'em receive their mead.  
" Since I who could the Fury fell  
" Of Saul's enraged Mind  
" With Holy Psalms and music quell,  
" No Rest myself can find.  
" For now not Saul's, but David's, Soul  
" With Madness is full fraught;  
" And I who could his Rage control,  
" Have his Distemper caught.   

Thus( Senators) the Royal Bard  
Would have his wretched Ailments heard;  
And thus before your Wisdoms Sage,  
He lays the Reasons of his Rage.  
We too must join against these Elves,  
And beg for David, and ourselves:  
Oh! For those Lines by Nich. and Nahum,  
Let no one sing or ever say 'em;  
Nor take our privileges from us,  
Whilst I am John and I am Thomas.   

And your Petitioners shall pray  
For Evermore, and Eke for ay.   
 seal The Papers, concerning this Subject, that have not this prefixed, are not genuine.   

London, Printed for John Wells, in St. Paul's Church-yard, 1699.