This song, says Mr Chappell, in his Popular Music of the Olden Time,
which describes with some humour the taste of the Puritans, might pass
for a Puritan song, if it were not contained in the “Shepherds’ Oracles,”
by Francis Quarles, 1646. He was cup-bearer to Elizabeth, Queen of
Bohemia, daughter of James I., and afterwards chronologer to the city of
London. He died in 1644, and his Shepherds’ Oracles were a posthumous
publication. It was often reprinted during the Restoration, and
reproduced and slightly altered by Thomas Durfey, in his “Pills to Purge
Melancholy,” where the burthen is, “Hey, boys, up go we.”
KNOW this, my brethren, heaven is clear,
And all the clouds are gone;
The righteous man shall flourish now,
Good days are coming on.
Then come, my brethren, and be glad,
And eke rejoyce with me;
Lawn sleeves and rochets shall go down,
And hey, then, up go we.
We’ll break the windows which the whore
Of Babylon hath painted,
And when the popish saints are down
Then Barrow shall be sainted;
There’s neither cross nor crucifix
Shall stand for men to see,
Rome’s trash and trumpery shall go down,
And hey, then, up go we.
Whate’er the Popish hands have built
Our hammers shall undo;
We’ll break their pipes and burn their copes,
And pull down churches too;
We’ll exercise within the groves,
And teach beneath a tree;
We’ll make a pulpit of a cask,
And hey, then, up go we.
We’ll put down Universities,
Where learning is profest,
Because they practise and maintain
The language of the Beast;
We’ll drive the doctors out of doors,
And all that learned be;
We’ll cry all arts and learning down,
And hey, then, up go we.
We’ll down with deans and prebends, too,
And I rejoyce to tell ye
We then shall get our fill of pig,
And capons for the belly.
We’ll burn the Fathers’ weighty tomes,
And make the School-men flee;
We’ll down with all that smells of wit,
And hey, then, up go we.
If once the Antichristian crew
Be crush’d and overthrown,
We’ll teach the nobles how to stoop,
And keep the gentry down:
Good manners have an ill report,
And turn to pride, we see,
We’ll therefore put good manners down,
And hey, then, up go we.
The name of lords shall be abhorr’d,
For every man’s a brother;
No reason why in Church and State
One man should rule another;
But when the change of government
Shall set our fingers free,
We’ll make these wanton sisters stoop,
And hey, then, up go we.
What though the King and Parliament
Do not accord together,
We have more cause to be content,
This is our sunshine weather:
For if that reason should take place,
And they should once agree,
Who would be in a Roundhead’s case,
For hey, then, up go we.
What should we do, then, in this case?
Let’s put it to a venture;
If that we hold out seven years’ space
We’ll sue out our indenture.
A time may come to make us rue,
And time may set us free,
Except the gallows claim his due,
And hey, then, up go we.
THE CLEAN CONTRARY WAY,
OR,
COLONEL VENNE’S ENCOURAGEMENT TO HIS SOLDIERS.
To the air of “Hey, then, up go we.”
From a Collection of Loyal Songs written against the Rump Parliament.
FIGHT on, brave soldiers, for the cause,
Fear not the Cavaliers;
Their threat’nings are as senseless as
Our jealousies and fears.
Tis you must perfect this great work,
And all malignants slay;
You must bring back the King again
The clean contrary way.
’Tis for religion that you fight,
And for the kingdom’s good;
By robbing churches, plundering them,
And shedding guiltless blood.
Down with the orthodoxal train,
All loyal subjects slay;
When these are gone, we shall be blest
The clean contrary way.
When _Charles_ we have made bankrupt,
Of power and crown bereft him,
And all his loyal subjects slain,
And none but rebels left him;
When we have beggar’d all the land,
And sent our trunks away,
We’ll make him then a glorious prince
The clean contrary way.
’Tis to preserve his Majesty
That we against him fight,
Nor ever are we beaten back,
Because our cause is right:
If any make a scruple at
Our Declarations, say,—
Who fight for us, fight for the King
The clean contrary way.
At _Keinton_, _Brainsford_, _Plymouth_, _York_,
And divers places more,
What victories we saints obtain,
The like ne’er seen before:
How often we Prince _Rupert_ kill’d,
And bravely won the day,
The wicked Cavaliers did run
The clean contrary way.
The true religion we maintain,
The kingdom’s peace and plenty;
The privilege of Parliament
Not known to one and twenty;
The ancient fundamental laws,
And teach men to obey
Their lawful sovereign, and all these
The clean contrary way.
We subjects’ liberties preserve
By imprisonment and plunder,
And do enrich ourselves and state
By keeping th’ wicked under.
We must preserve mechanicks now
To lectorize and pray;
By them the gospel is advanced
The clean contrary way.
And though the King be much misled
By that malignant crew,
He’ll find us honest at the last,
Give all of us our due.
For we do wisely plot, and plot
Rebellion to alloy,
He sees we stand for peace and truth
The clean contrary way.
The publick faith shall save our souls
And our good works together;
And ships shall save our lives, that stay
Only for wind and weather:
But when our faith and works fall down
And all our hopes decay,
Our acts will bear us up to heaven
The clean contrary way.