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Thursday, January 02, 2014

Squire William BLUNDELL, 1600


THE time hath been men would live chaste, And so could maid that vows had past; The time is now that gift has gone, New gospellers such gifts have none.

Sweet Jesu, with thy mother mild, Sweet Virgin mother, with thy child ; Angels and Saints of each degree Redress our country's misery.

The time hath been that Saints could see, Could hear and help our misery ; The time is now that fiends alone Have leave to range—saints must be gone.

The time hath been fear made us quake To sin, lest God should us forsake ; The time is now the vilest knave Is sure (he'll say) God will him save.

The time hath been to fast and pray, And do alms deeds was thought the way ; The time is now, men say indeed, Such stuff with God hath little meed.

The time hath been, within this land, One's word as good as was his bond ; The time is now, all men may see, New faiths have killed old honesty.

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