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[4]

O England gemme of Europe, Angells land,
Blest for thy gospell, people, prince, and all,
And all through peace, let Martins vnderstand
The hony of thy peace, abhorre their gall.
Martins? what kind of creatures mought those bee?
Birds, beasts, men, Angels, Feends? Nay worse say we.
The feendes spake faire sometimes and honor gaue,
Curse and contempt is all that Martins haue.
England if yet thou art to learne thy spell,
Learne other things, such doctrine is for hell.
What favor would these Martins? Shall I say
As other birds wherwith yong children play.
Let them be cagd, and hempseed be their food
Hempseed the only meate to feede this broode.
Disclaime these monsters, take them not for thine
Hell was their wombe, and hell must be their shryne.