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A priest, a priest, fayes Aldingar,
While I am a man aliye.
Me for to houzle and shrive.
I wolde have layne by our comlye queene
Bot shee wolde never consent;
In a fyer to have her brent.
There came a lazar to the kings gates?
A lazar both blinde and lame : I tooke the lazar upon my backe,
And on her bedd him layne.
Then ranne I to our comlye king,
These tidings fore to tell.
Falfing never doth well.
Forgive, forgive me, queené, madame,
The short time I must live.
As freely I forgive.
Here take thy queene, our king Harry'e,
And love her as thy life,
A truer and fairer wife.
King Henrye ran to claspe his queene,
And loosed her full sone :
-The boye was vanisht and gone.
But first he had touchd the lazar man,
And stroakt him with his hand : The lazar under the gallowes tree
All whole and founde did stand.
The lazar under the gallowes tree
Was comelye, straight and tall ;
To wayte withinn his hall.
ON THOMAS LORD CROMWELL.
It is ever the fate of a disgraced minister to be forsalen by bis friends, and insulted by his enemies, alzways reckoning among the latter the giddy inconstant multitude. We bave here a Spurn at fallen greatness from some angry partisan of declining popery, who could never forgive the downfall of their Diana, and loss of their craft. The ballad seems to have been composed between the time of Cromwell's commiiment to the tower Jun. 11. 1549, and that of his being beheaded July 28, following. A foort interval! but Henry's fation for Catharine Howard would
admit no delay. Notwithstanding our libeller, Cromwell bad excellent qualities; his great fault was too much obe Sequiousness to the arbitrary will of his master; but let it le considered that this master had raised him from obscurity
, and that the high-born nobility had hewn bim the way in every kind of mean and servile compliance. The original copy printed at London in 1540, is intitled " A newe ac ballade mode of Thomas Crumwel, called Trolle on “ AWAY.” To it is prefixed this diffich by way of burther,
Trolle on away, trolle on awaye.
OTH man and chylde is glad to here tell
Of that false traytoure Thomas Crumwel, Now that he is set to learne to spell.
Synge trolle on away.
When fortune loky'd the in thy face,
Both plate and chalys came to thy fyft,
. Synge, &c.
Both crust and crumme came thorowe thy handes,
kynge Henry, God faue his grace! -90 * Perceyud myschefe kyndlyd in thy face, Ber;" Then it was tyme to purchase the a place.
Hys grace was euer of gentyll nature,
Thou dyd not remembre, false heretyke,
Thou woldyst not learne to knowe these thre,
All they, that were of the new trycke,
Bothe sacramentes and facramentalles
Of what generacyon thou were no tonge can tell,
Thou woldes neuer to vertųe applye,
Who-so-euer dyd winne thou wolde not lose,
Thou myghtest haue learned thy cloth to flocke,
Yet faue that foule, that God hath bought,
God faue kyng Henry with all his power,
Synge trolle on awaye, fyng trolle on away.