Fifty of the Protestant Ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

Puritanic, narrow-minded,
Lost in low sectarian ways,
With dull prejudices blinded,
Protestant! is this your praise?
So they charge us, so they tell us,
So their envious tongues would blight
(Of our noble freedoms jealous)
England's name of living light.

Pure,—so be it; walking purely
On the straight and narrow track,
In good works and faith securely,
Forwards! never creeping back:
Honest-hearted, and frank-spoken,
Scorning cheats, and shams and lies,
Protestant! are these a token
Of a spirit to despise?—

Liberty in faith and reason,
Freedom's right to think and speak,
Courage, in and out of season,
From the strong to save the weak,—

Conscience honoured, judging all things,
By the Word of God all ways,
Keeping truth in great and small things,
Protestant! be this your praise.

Every superstitious error
It is yours to sweep aside,
Every form of pagan terror
Shaped by priestcraft in its pride;
Every kind of persecution
Yours to hate, as British born,
Every human absolution,
As a Christian, yours to scorn.

While your zeal for soul-salvation
Points to Christ upon the Cross,
Sacerdotal mediation
You denounce as utter dross;
While you tolerate opinion
You will keep, as best you can,
Rome's intolerant dominion
From the soul and mind of man.

So, for narrowness, large-minded,
For sectarian, wide and free,
Full of light, instead of blinded,
Bold to speak, as clear to see,—
Protestant, in honest gladness,
Proudly will you claim a name
Which the Papist in his madness
Wrung from martyrdom aflame!